Time passed quickly amid these agreeable thoughts, and I was quite startled to hear the bell ring for prayers. I jumped up in a great flurry and dressed as quickly as I could. Everything conspired together to plague me. I could not find a clean collar, or a handkerchief. It is always just so. Susan is forever poking my things into out-of-the-way places! When at last I went down, they were all at breakfast.
"I hoped you would celebrate your birthday, dear, by coming down in good season," said mother.
I do hate to be found fault with, so I fired up in an instant.
"If people hide my things so that I can't find them, of course I have to be late," I said. And I rather think I said it in a very cross way, for mother sighed a little. I wish mother wouldn't sigh. I would rather be called names out and out.
The moment breakfast was over I had to hurry off to school. Just as I was going out mother said, "Have you your overshoes, dear?"
"Oh, mother, don't hinder me! I shall be late," I said. "I don't need overshoes."
"It snowed all night, and I think you do need them," mother said.
"I don't know where they are. I hate overshoes. Do let me go, mother," I cried. "I do wish I could ever have my own way."
"You shall have it now, my child," mother said, and went away.
Now what was the use of her calling me "my child" in such a tone, I should like to know.