"I don't know, but it isn't dirty, I suppose. Everybody is always clean and good there."
"I don't think I'm a cherub," said Noel; "but if Miss Trent likes to call me it, I shall pretend I am."
"Then you'll have to try to be like one," said Diana.
Noel said no more, but when Nurse undressed him that evening and spoke to him sharply, he said rather plaintively:
"I wish I was a real cherub, then I shouldn't be managed."
"You're no more like a cherub than the black cat is!" said Nurse shortly. "Now get into bed, and try to be a good boy to-morrow. That's all that you need trouble your head about."
And Noel laid his head on his pillow and went fast asleep, to dream that Miss Trent and he were sailing through the sky on a fat soft white cloud, and then that they tumbled into a pond and "God's man" fished them out with his garden rake!
He went to tea with Miss Trent once more in the following week and enjoyed himself even more than before, for her foot was better and they had tea in the garden, and he played with a terrier puppy which had been given to Miss Trent the previous day.
The days were sunny and warm, and lessons were really a trial when everything out of doors was so delicious. But as every day passed, the holidays came nearer, and at last the eventful Wednesday came when Chris came home from school and Miss Morgan said good-bye to the children for six long weeks.
Then Mrs. Inglefield had her first picnic. And Inez and Ted both came to it. Ted was carried on a stretcher and laid on a light four-wheeled little carriage that the village carpenter had made for him. And Mr. Wargrave drew it gently along the roads, till they came to the wood where Mrs. Inglefield meant to have her picnic. He and Miss Constance Trent were both invited to the picnic. Miss Constance limped a little, but her foot was very nearly well.