On the day that Mr. Daleham removed from his town residence to his new house in the country there was much bustle and business in the family. The servants were all employed in unpacking and arranging chairs, tables, sofas, and sideboards in their proper places. Some men were putting up beds, while others were hanging window-curtains and nailing down carpets. The only idle persons in the house were Arnold and Isabel, and they could find nothing to do but to skip from room to room, ask questions, admire their new dwelling-house, and talk of the pleasure they should receive in a visit their father was engaged to make that day to Mr. Morton, his intimate friend, who lived about one mile and a half distant.

So desirous were Arnold and Isabel of seeing Morton Park, or rather perhaps of eating some of the fine grapes and melons which they had heard grew in Mr. Morton’s hot-house, that the morning seemed to be the length of the whole day. When people are without employment, time hangs heavily on their hands, and minutes will appear to be as long as hours. Half a dozen times in the course of the morning these children ran to the door of the library, to ask their father when he would be ready to go, and though he was engaged sorting papers and arranging his books, they did not forbear their troublesome inquiries till he was quite angry with them.

At length, however, the joyful tidings came to Arnold and Isabel that they were to dress directly, as their father would be ready to set out in half an hour. As the day was very fine, and the coachman’s assistance was useful to the other servants busied in disposing the furniture in the various apartments, Mr. Daleham chose to walk to Morton Park; but after he had dressed, and the half-hour had elapsed, he still had orders to give that detained him.

Arnold and Isabel meanwhile were standing at the hall door, almost wild with their impatience to be gone; and at last Arnold proposed to his sister that they should go on first, as their papa could soon overtake them; and Isabel eagerly ran to ask the housekeeper whether they must take the right or the left-hand road. The housekeeper was busy with a basket of china, some of which had been broken in the carriage; and as her thoughts were fixed on the fragments of the china, she scarcely attended to the nature of Isabel’s question, and said hastily that the right-hand road led to Morton Park; and so it did, but that was the coach road, and Mr. Daleham meant to go a much nearer and cleaner way, upon a raised path across some pleasant meadows.

No sooner had Isabel received the housekeeper’s reply than away they went, and in their eagerness to reach Morton Park, they did not at first observe that the lane was very dirty; but at last some large splashes of mud on Isabel’s clean frock attracted Arnold’s notice, and he then perceived that his own white stockings and nankeen trousers were in the same dirty state. What was now to be done? They both felt that it was highly improper to go to a gentleman’s house in such a condition; but then Arnold said that his father must know that the road was dirty after so much rain as they had had lately, and as he meant to walk, he supposed their getting a few splashes was of no consequence. Isabel agreed with this mode of reasoning, and on they went, expecting every moment to hear their father’s steps behind them.

The lane now became wider and more open to the beams of the sun, which had dried the pathway; but though they were somewhat out of the mud, the heat of the sun was so intense they knew not how to bear it, and they walked as fast as they could in order to get to some shady place. While they were panting with heat, they suddenly came to a stream that ran directly across the road, and it had no bridge over it, because foot passengers rarely came that way.

They were now in the greatest distress. To stand still in the full burning sun was dreadful, and to go back was equally fatiguing. There was no place to sit down in that part of the road, but on the opposite side of the stream three large oak trees were growing, and formed a pleasant shade over a green bank. Isabel, greatly tired, and almost fainting with heat, wished she could get to the shady bank; so did Arnold, and he said he could take off his shoes and stockings, and carry his sister through the water on his back. This plan was settled; and they agreed that, when they were over the stream, they would wait on the bank for their papa, and endeavour to rub off upon the grass the clots of mud that stuck to their shoes. But either Arnold was not so strong as he had supposed he was, or Isabel, having her brother’s shoes and stockings to carry in her hand, did not hold fast round his neck, for just as they were in the middle of the stream, his foot slipped, he staggered, fell, and down went brother and sister at once into the pool.

Both scrambled up in a moment, and neither had suffered more injury than being completely bathed in the water. With streaming hair and dripping garments they reached the bank; but when Isabel saw that the ribbons of her new straw bonnet were spoiled, she began to cry and accuse her brother of having thrown her down on purpose, which so provoked the young gentleman, that he said it was all owing to her clumsiness, and at the same time he shook the sleeves of his jacket, from which he was wringing the wet, in her face. Isabel’s anger increasing at this, she rudely gave her brother a severe box on the ear. A scuffle now ensued, which caused a second tumble, and this fall being on the rough gravel, Isabel’s face was scratched by the sharp pebbles, and Arnold’s elbow sadly cut by a large flint stone.

The smart of these wounds cooled their passions; they thought no more of fighting, and were wiping away the blood, and looking with grief and dismay at their wet, dirty clothes, when a servant came up who had been sent in pursuit of them.

Mr. Daleham was not far behind. He had been told that Arnold and Isabel were gone before him, and was much alarmed at not finding them in the field-path. He had therefore returned the same way to search for them; he ordered the servant to conduct them home, and told them that their silly impatience had spoiled their pleasure, as it was not possible for them now to appear at Morton Park.

Mr. Daleham then hastened on, for fear Mr. Morton’s dinner should wait for him; and Arnold and Isabel, forlorn, wet, draggled, and dirty, were led back to their own house. They passed a dismal afternoon, lamenting their folly and imprudence; and next morning they heard that there were not only plenty of grapes, melons, peaches, and filberts on Mr. Morton’s table, but that also a very merry party of children were assembled there, who danced on the lawn till the dusk of evening approached, and then played at blindman’s buff in the great hall.