Whereupon Florrie stubbornly refused to do so, till Miss Jameson was obliged to make her put away her work and go at once to bed.
The pleasure of the evening was now spoiled.
Both Kate and Gertie were cross and fretful as they continued their work. "It is all Grandmamma's fault," Kate muttered, when Miss Jameson remarked on her ill-humour.
"Now, Kate," said her governess, gently, "do you really think that your Grandmamma is to be blamed for this sad ending to our evening?"
Kate looked down, and said nothing.
"I shall be sorry that I ever proposed your dressing these dolls, if it gives rise to so much self-will and temper," said Miss Jameson.
The children bade her good-night, and went off with gloomy looks to bed. But when Miss Jameson went upstairs a little later she heard her name called eagerly as she passed the door of the room in which the three little girls slept. She opened the door and looked in. She saw each one sitting up in her little bed, and their faces told her at once that a change of mood had set in.
Florrie's bed was nearest the door, and she spoke for the rest. "Oh, Miss Jameson," she said, earnestly, "we are very sorry that we turned up so cross and nasty. Will you forgive us?"
Her governess did not reprove her for the inelegance of her language. She only went to Florrie and kissed her in a way that made her quite sure that she was forgiven. Then she passed on to the other beds, and there were some tears shed as the children told her how very, very sorry they were.
"I can't understand it," sighed Kate; "I thought we were doing a good thing, yet it all ended so badly."