She nearly killed Barbara.
It was the first week of August, and Sir Francis and Lady Isabel had gone to Scotland. The children were going to the sea with Nurse on the following day, and took advantage of her state of excitement over the packing, and the emptiness of the downstair rooms, to play at circus on the stairs. Emily only said, "Now don't go hurting yourselves, whatever you do, or there'll be no seaside tomorrow," and then went back to amuse Pamela, who was crying and restless from the heat.
"I'll tell you what!" said Alex. "We'll have tight-rope dancing. I'm tired of learned pigs and things like that—" This last impersonation having been perseveringly rendered by Cedric with much shuffling and snorting over a pack of cards.
"Give me the skipping-rope, Barbara."
"Why?" said Barbara, whining.
"Because I say so," replied her sister, stamping her foot. "I've got an idea."
"It's my skipping-rope."
"But if you don't give it to me we can't have the tight-rope dancing," said Alex in despair.
"I don't care. Why should you do tight-rope dancing with my skipping-rope?"
"You shall do it first—you shall do it all yourself, if you'll only let me show you," Alex cried in an agony of impatience.