‘Don’t try your sum yet, then,’ she said. ‘Practise your scales for half an hour, while I do my algebra, and then we’ll go over your German verbs together. I’ll tell Miss Vincent, and she wont’ mind, and I think mamma will be pleased if you try.’
Gillian was too much used to noises not to be able to work an equation, and prepare her Virgil, to the sound of scales, and Mysie was a good deal restored by them and by hope.
So when at length Constance had been summoned by her sister, who tore herself away from the arrangements, being bound to five-o’clock tea elsewhere, Mysie was discovered with a face still rather woe-begone, but hopeful and persevering, and though there still was a ‘bill of parcels’ where 11 and 3/4 lbs. of mutton at 13 and 1/2d. per lb. refused to come right, Lady Merrifield kissed her, said she had been a diligent child, and sent her off prancing in bliss to the old ‘still-room’ stove, where they were allowed a fire, basins, spoons, and strainers, and where the sugar lay in a snowy heap, and the blackberries in a sanguine pile.
‘There’s partiality!’ thought Dolores, and scowled, as she stood at the front door still gazing after Constance.
‘Won’t you come, Dolly?’ said Mysie. ‘Or haven’t you learnt your lessons?’
‘No,’ said Dolly, making one answer serve for both questions.
‘Oh! then you can’t. Shall I ask mamma to let you off?’
‘No, I don’t care. I don’t like messes! And what’s the use if you haven’t a cookery class?’
‘It’s such fun,’ said Val.
‘And our sisters did go to a cookery class at Dublin and taught Gill,’ added Mysie.