"You won't here!" returned Miss Poppleton grimly. "Take those things back to the kitchen at once. You will stay in from hockey to-morrow, and learn a page of French poetry. Each of you others" (glaring at the crestfallen circle) "will copy fifty lines of Paradise Lost, and bring them to me before Thursday. If you can't be trusted, I shall have to send one of the Seniors to sit with you in the evenings."
With this awful threat she departed, having first seen the exit of Gipsy with the tray.
"I knew Gipsy was bound to get into a scrape sooner or later," groaned Dilys.
"And we're in too, worse luck!" wailed Daisy Scatcherd. "Fifty lines is no joke!"
"It's ironical of her to choose Paradise Lost when the Fudge had just boiled over!" said Hetty. "She doesn't like Gipsy, it's easy enough to see that."
"Here's Gipsy back. Well, my child, what do you think of your 'first bite', as you call it? Poppie didn't see your privileges! You'll have the pleasure of learning a whole page of French poetry to improve your mind, instead of playing hockey to-morrow!"
"I don't care!" said Gipsy, with an obstinate set to her mouth. "She may give me anything she likes, to learn. When folks are nice to me, I'll keep any number of rules; but when they begin to bully me, I just feel inclined to go and do something outrageous. I'm afraid there's not much love lost between Poppie and me."