e me," she said. "You know that lessons have to be done
during lesson hours, and that rules are not to be broken. You know
what your mother would say if she heard you talking English at meals.
Twice to-day you broke through that rule. The first time I pardoned
you--the second time it was unpardonable. Now, my dear, apply yourself
to your task--get it well over, and you will doubtless be ready to
welcome your cousins when they arrive."

Miss Ramsay left the room. Ann shed a few tears, and then, seeing
there was no help for it, applied herself with all her might and main
to learning her appointed task. She got her poetry by heart after a
fashion, and, hastily replacing the book in the bookcase, ran out of
the schoolroom. She saw Lucy and Mary pacing up and down the terrace
in front of the house. They were in clean white frocks, with sashes
round their waists, and their hair was very trimly brushed and curled
over their heads. Their faces shone from soap and water, and even at
that distance Ann could perceive that their hands were painfully,
terribly clean. In her heart of hearts Ann hated clean hands; they
meant so much that was unpleasant--they meant that there must be no
grubbing in the garden, no searching for dear little weeds and small
flowers, and all kinds of delicious, unexpected things in mother
earth. In her heart of hearts Ann had a spark of originality of her
own, but it had little chance of flourishing under the treatment so
carefully pursued at Super-Ashton.

Philip and Conrad might also be seen on the terrace in their clean
linen blouses and fresh knickerbockers; their hands were also
carefully washed, their hair brushed back from their faces, the faces
themselves shining from soap and water.

"Oh, dear! there's no help for it," thought little Ann, "I must go
into the nursery and let Simpson pull me about. How she will scrub me
and tug at my hair, and put on such a horrid starched dress, and it's
so hot to-night! Well, if I hurry I may be in time to tell Philip what
I know about their names. Oh, how delicious it will be! He'll be so
excited. Yes, I'll be as quick as possible."

Ann ran down the long passage which led from the schoolroom to the
nursery, opened the door, and approached a prim old servant with a
somewhat cross face, who was busily engaged mending stockings.

"Please, Simpson, here I am. Will you dress me?" said Ann, panting as
she spoke.

Simpson laid down her work with deliberation.