to Griselda that the bird repeated her aunt's last words.
"Faith--ful, dis--charge, of--your, du--ty," he said, "faith--ful."

"You horrid little creature!" exclaimed Griselda in a passion; "what
business have you to mock me?"

She seized a book, the first that came to hand, and flung it at the bird
who was just beginning his eleventh cuckoo. He disappeared with a snap,
disappeared without flapping his wings, or, as Griselda always fancied
he did, giving her a friendly nod, and in an instant all was silent.

Griselda felt a little frightened. What had she done? She looked up at
the clock. It seemed just the same as usual, the cuckoo's doors closely
shut, no sign of any disturbance. Could it have been her fancy only that
he had sprung back more hastily than he would have done but for her
throwing the book at him? She began to hope so, and tried to go on with
her lessons. But it was no use. Though she really gave her best
attention to the long addition sums, and found that by so doing she
managed them much better than before, she could not feel happy or at
ease. Every few minutes she glanced up at the clock, as if expecting
the cuckoo to come out, though she knew quite well there was no chance
of his doing so till twelve o'clock, as it was only the hours, not the
half hours and quarters, that he told.

"I wish it was twelve o'clock," she said to herself anxiously more than
once.

If only the clock had not been so very high up on the wall, she would
have been tempted to climb up and open the little doors, and peep in to
satisfy herself as to the cuckoo's condition. But there was no
possibility of this. The clock was far, very far above her reach, and
there was no high piece of furniture standing near, upon which she could
have climbed to get to it. There was nothing to be done but to wait for
twelve o'clock.

And, after all, she did not wait for twelve o'clock, for just about
half-past eleven, Miss Grizzel's voice was heard calling to her to put
on her hat and cloak quickly, and come out to walk up and down the
terrace with her.

"It is fine just now," said Miss Grizzel, "but there is a prospect of
rain before long. You must leave your lessons for the present, and
finish them in the afternoon."

"I have finished them," said Griselda, meekly.

"_All?_" inquired her aunt.

"Yes, all," replied Griselda.

"Ah, well, then, this afternoon, if the rain holds off, we shall drive
to Merrybrow Hall, and inquire for the