No wonder the poor child looked unhappy!
At last the boat stopped at a wharf not far from Misrule, and the
Captain alighted, carrying his small dirty son gingerly in his
arms. He walked slowly up the red road along which the dogcart
had sped so blithesomely some six or seven hours ago, and Judy
and Pip followed at a respectful--a very respectful--distance.
At the gate he saw them, and gave a large, angry beckon for them
to come up. Judy went very white, but obeyed instantly, and Pip,
pulling himself together, brought up the rear.
Afterwards Judy only had a very indistinct remembrance of what
happened during the next half-hour. She knew there was a stormy
scene, in which Esther and the whole family came in for an
immense amount of vituperation.
Then Pip received a thrashing, in spite of Judy's persistent avowal
that it was all her fault, and Pip hadn't done anything. She
remembered wondering whether she would be treated as summarily as
Pip, so angry was her father's face as he pushed the boy aside
and stood looking at her, riding whip in hand. But he flung
it, down and laid a heavy hand on her shrinking shoulder.
"Next Monday," he said slowly--"next Monday morning you will
go to boarding school.
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