"Oh, no!" said Ada. "I'm not sleepy, and I can't do anything to-day; I feel I don't know how. I shall go and see how they are getting on upstairs."
"Worse still," groaned Arthur. But he did not do more to dissuade her; and they heard her ascend the many stairs till she reached the nursery, where her footsteps paused, and then there was a shout of, "Oh, Ada, Ada! Have you come to play with us?"
Five little ones, of various ages, were scattered about the large nursery. There were three wide, low windows, looking out on an expanse of sky, circumscribed by endless roofs and chimneys, giving the children also a good view of the pretty garden in the square.
Near one of these windows sat the nurse, a pleasant-looking young woman, and on her lap, untroubled by the intense heat, sat a chubby baby of about a year old. Close by, and just under the low windowsill, a little couch was arranged, and on it a boy of eight years lay, lying so that his weary little face could just peep through the bottom pane of glass.
Hearing Ada's step, he turned abruptly round and looked eagerly at her. "Is mamma come home yet?" he asked.
"No," said Ada. "Oh, Mary, isn't it awfully hot? I could not settle to anything down in the drawing room, and so I came to see how nearly roasted you all are."
"Oh, we are not roasted at all, Ada," said a grave little girl looking towards the empty grate, "'cause there's no fire!"
The others laughed, and Ada declared it made her hotter to think of it.
"Ada, do tell us a story, or read to us," said a little girl of about five years, who was playing in a corner with her constant companion, Netta, and their two dolls.
"Yes, do," added Netta, running to a little shelf, and taking down a book and eagerly turning over the leaves.