prejudice. No doubt it had been very
"upsetting" to her to have all of a sudden three children brought into
the quiet orderly house she had got to think almost her own, even though
of course it was really Uncle Geoff's, and no doubt too, from the first,
which was partly Pierson's fault, though she hadn't meant it, the boys
and I had taken a dislike to her and had not shown ourselves to
advantage. I can see all how it was quite plainly now--now that I have
so often talked over this time of troubles with mother and with
aunt--(but I am forgetting, I mustn't tell you that yet). But at the
time, I could see no excuse for Mrs. Partridge. I thought she was
telling stories against us on purpose, and I hated her for telling them
in the quiet sort of way she did, which I could see made Uncle Geoff
believe her.

All the smile had gone out of his face when he turned to us again.

"Rudeness and disobedience," he repeated slowly, looking at us--at Tom
and me especially, "what an account to send to your parents! I do not
think there is any use my saying any more. I said all I could to you,
Audrey, this morning, and you are the eldest. I _trusted_ you to do your
utmost to show the boys a good example. Partridge, we must do our best
to get a firm, strict nurse for them at once. I cannot have my house
upset in this way."

He turned and went away without saying a word--without even wishing us
good night. It was very, very hard upon us, and I must say hard on me
particularly, for I _know_ I had been trying my best--trying to be
patient and cheerful and to make the little boys the same. And now to
have Uncle Geoff so entirely turned against us, and worst of all to
think of him writing to papa and mother about our being naughty! What
_would_ they think?--that we had not even been able to be good for one
week after they had left us would seem so dreadful. I did not seem as if
I wanted to write to papa and mother _myself_--it would have been like
complaining of Uncle Geoff, and besides, saying of myself that I had
been trying to be good wouldn't have seemed much good. But I felt more
and more that some one must write and tell them the truth, and the only
person I could think of to do so was Pierson. So I settled in my own
mind to write to her as soon as I could; that was the only thing I could
settle.

In punishment, I suppose, for our having been--as she called it--"so
naughty," Mrs. Partridge sent Sarah to put us to bed extra early that