om and I were doing our writing for Mr. Lingard--that was
our tutor--for the next day, Tom would pull the ink close over to him,
and I pulled it back to me, and we both got cross, and the end of it was
that the ink was all spilt over the table; and oh! it made such a big
black pool, and then little streams of it began running to the edge, and
would have fallen on to the carpet.

"Oh," said Tom, "I'll wipe it up;" and up he jumped to fetch something
to wipe it with, and before I could see what he was about, what do you
think he had done? He had seized my Lady Florimel's opera cloak, which
was lying on a chair--of course it _shouldn't_ have been lying about, I
know--and scrubbed up the ink with it all in a minute. The cloak was
black silk outside, so he thought it was just a piece of black stuff
lying about--but inside it was lovely pale pink, and of course it was
quite spoilt. I was so vexed that I began to cry, and then Tom was
dreadfully sorry, and came and hugged and kissed me, and so we made
friends again, and the ink spilling sent away our quarrelling any way.
And perhaps it was better for Lady Florimel's cloak to be spoilt, than
for the carpet, for then we should have had a very great scolding from
Mrs. Partridge. It didn't matter for the table, as it just had an
oilcloth cover that would not stain. And when we had made friends again,
we all climbed up on to the window-sill, and began to wonder what we
should do.

"Tom," said Racey, pressing his face flat against the window, so as to
see out better, "Tom, have you seen the air-garden?"

"The air-garden," repeated Tom, "what do you mean?"

"He means that little sticking out glass place," I explained, "with
flowers and plants in--there, further down on the other side."

"A preservatory," said Tom, rather contemptuously, "why, who would think
what you meant, if you say a' air-garden?"

"_I_ zink it's a much prettier name than 'servatory," said Racey
indignantly.

I began to be afraid of getting into quarrelling again just from having
nothing to do; the big clock on the stair which we could hear from the
nursery, had struck only three a few minutes before, and there was still
a whole hour to tea. The boys were really tired of all their toys, and
I didn't care to play with my dolls. The misfortune to Lady Florimel's
cloak had put me out of conceit of them for the present.

"Let's tell each other stories," I said.

"Don't know none," said Tom.

"Well, make th