Never mind.' Again
using her bulrush to tickle the faces that looked most injured, and waken
them into smiles--'Here's the prison house open,' and she sprang out.
'Now--come with a whoop and come with a call--I'll give my club to
anybody that can catch me before I get down to the vicarage garden.'

Light as the wind, she went bounding flying across the churchyard like a
butterfly, ever and anon pausing to look round, nod, and shake her
sceptre, as the urchins tumbled confusedly after, far behind, till
closing the gate, she turned, poised the reed javelin-wise in the air,
and launched it among them.

'It is vain to try to collect them again,' sighed Mr. Prendergast; 'we
must shut up. Good night, Miss Murrell;' and therewith he turned back to
his garden, where the freakish sprite, feigning flight, took refuge in
the boat, cowering down, and playfully hiding her face in deprecation of
rebuke, but all she received was a meekly melancholy, 'O Cilla! prayers.'

'One day's less loathing of compulsory devotion,' was her answer in saucy
defiance. 'I owed it to them for the weariness of listening for ten
minutes to the "Three Fishers' Wives," which they appreciated as little
as their pastor did!'

'I know nothing about songs, but when one wants them--poor things--to
look to something better than sleep.'

'Oh, hush! Here are Miss Charlecote and Mr. Fulmort on your side, and I
can't be crushed with united morality in revenge for the tears Edna
caused you all to shed. There, help Miss Charlecote in; where can Owen
be dawdling? You can't pull, Phoebe, or we would put off without him.
Ah, there!' as he came bounding down, 'you intolerable loiterer, I was
just going to leave you behind.'

'The train starting without the engine,' he said, getting into his place;
'yes, take an oar if you like, little gnat, and fancy yourself helping.'

The gay warfare, accompanied by a few perilous tricks on Lucilla's part,
lasted through the further voyage. Honora guessed at a purpose of
staving off graver remonstrance, but Phoebe looked on in astonishment.
Seventeen is often a more serious time of life than two-and twenty, and
the damsel could not comprehend the possibility of thoughtlessness when
there was anything to think about. The ass's bridge was nothing compared
with Lucy! Moreover the habits of persiflage of a lively family often
are confusing to one not used to the tone of jest and repartee, and
Phoebe had as little power as wi