"Never heard tell of such fuss and nonsense and mystery," he grumbled. "Mrs. Goodheart is puffed with importance—won't tell a soul what is taking the mistress away."
When Harebell reached the Rectory, Peter and Nan met her with much excitement.
"You're going to sleep with me," said Nan. "I've been helping Susan to make your bed."
"And Nan and I have been making up a new game," said Peter. "If you're good, we'll let you join!"
There was not much time for talk, for lessons began at once. Harebell was inattentive and restless that morning. Miss Forster reproved her sharply more than once. She told her to take her French book to a side table and learn the verb "aimer." Harebell meekly obeyed, but soon her eyes were roving out of the window, and her lesson was forgotten.
"What are you doing?" Miss Forster asked sharply.
Harebell started, then said slowly:
"Thoughts."
Peter sniggled.
"Turn your thoughts upon your verb," said Miss Forster.