"Aunt said we mustn't go out of the garden." "Oh, I shall go out at the other end of the garden," said Tom.

"Nobody 'ull see us.

Besides, I don't care if they do,--I'll run off home." "But _I_ couldn't run," said Lucy, who had never before been exposed to such severe temptation.
"Oh, never mind; they won't be cross with _you_," said Tom.

"You say I took you." Tom walked along, and Lucy trotted by his side, timidly enjoying the rare treat of doing something naughty,--excited also by the mention of that celebrity, the pike, about which she was quite uncertain whether it was a fish or a fowl.
Maggie saw them leaving the garden, and could not resist the impulse to follow.

Anger and jealousy can no more bear to lose sight of their objects than love, and that Tom and Lucy should do or see anything of which she was ignorant would have been an intolerable idea to Maggie.
So she kept a few yards behind them, unobserved by Tom, who was presently absorbed in watching for the pike,--a highly interesting monster; he was said to be so very old, so very large, and to have such a remarkable appetite.