have any luck again
all my life; but I want to spite her at any cost, so here I am."

"Delicious!" said Nancy. "Isn't it good to spite the old cat? Now then,
let's be off, or we may be caught. But I say, how fine we are!"

"You always admired this bunch of poppies, didn't you, Nancy? Do you
remember? Before you went to that grand school at Brighton you used to
envy me my poppies. I found them among mother's old things, and Verena
gave them to me. I love them like anything. Don't you like them very
much, placed so in front of my hat?"

"Didn't I say, 'How fine we are'?"

"Yes; but somehow your tone----"

"My dear Paulie, you are getting much too learned for my taste. Now come
along. Take my hand. Let us run. Let me tell you, you look charming. The
girls will admire you wonderfully. Amy and Becky are keen to make your
acquaintance. You can call them by their Christian names; they're not at
all stiff. Surname, Perkins. Nice girls--brought up at my school--father
in the pork line; jolly girls--very. And, of course, you met Jack and Tom
last year. They're out fishing at present. They'll bring in beautiful
trout for supper. Why, you poor little thing, you must be starved."

"Ravenous. You know I had only your fruit to-day."

"You shall have a downright jolly meal, and afterwards we'll have
fireworks; and then by-and-by you will share my bed. Amy and Becky will
be in the same room. They think there's a ghost at the other side of the
passage, so they came along to my chamber. But you won't mind."

"I won't mind anything after my lonely day. You are quite sure that I'll
get back in time in the morning, Nancy?"

"Trust me for that. Haven't you got the key of your room?"

"Yes; it's in my pocket. I left the window on the latch, and I can climb
up the beech tree quite well. Oh! that reminds me, Nancy; you must let me
have that thimble before I return to The Dales."

"To be sure I will, dear. But you needn't think of returning yet, for you
have not even arrived. Your fun is only beginning. Oh! you have done a
splendid, spirited thing running off in this fashion. I only hope she'll
go to your room and tap and tap, and knock and knock, and shout and
shout, and get, oh, so frightened! and have the door burst open; and then
she'll see for herself that the bird has flown. Won't she be in a tantrum
and a fright! Horrid old thing! She'll think that you have run off
forever. Serve her right. Oh! I almost wish she would do it--th