His words had some effect with her too, and with himself, so that by the
time he had finished dressing her they were both in the lowest state of
spirits imaginable and neither of them far from tears.

Breakfast she took soberly enough, and after that he went about getting
his experiment ready, which was this. In the garden he gathered together
a nosegay of snowdrops, those being all the flowers he could find, and
then going into the village of Stokoe bought a Dutch rabbit (that is a
black and white one) from a man there who kept them.

When he got back he took her flowers and at the same time set down the
basket with the rabbit in it, with the lid open. Then he called to her:
"Silvia, I have brought some flowers for you. Look, the first
snowdrops."

At this she ran up very prettily, and never giving as much as one glance
at the rabbit which had hopped out of its basket, she began to thank him
for the flowers. Indeed she seemed indefatigable in shewing her
gratitude, smelt them, stood a little way off looking at them, then
thanked him again. Mr. Tebrick (and this was all part of his plan) then
took a vase and went to find some water for them, but left the flowers
beside her. He stopped away five minutes, timing it by his watch and
listening very intently, but never heard the rabbit squeak. Yet when he
went in what a horrid shambles was spread before his eyes. Blood on the
carpet, blood on the armchairs and antimacassars, even a little blood
spurtled on to the wall, and what was worse, Mrs. Tebrick tearing and
growling over a piece of the skin and the legs, for she had eaten up all
the rest of it. The poor gentleman was so heartbroken over this that he
was like to have done himself an injury, and at one moment thought of