CHAPTER VII.
ANOTHER INVITATION.
‘WELL, chickens,’ said Mrs Osbourne, as she came into the schoolroom about half-past four, ‘and what have you been doing all afternoon? Did you think I had gone off altogether and left you?’
The gas had not been lit, but the room looked warm and cosy by the light of a blazing fire.
Claude looked up from the hearthrug, where he was looking at pictures in the ruddy glow. ‘The others are up in the top room, making a boat,’ he answered, ‘and Isobel’s asleep on the sofa.’
At the sound of her name the little girl roused herself and sat up rubbing her eyes.
‘Why, Isobel,’ said her mother, ‘what is the matter with you? You are not generally a sleepy-head.’
‘I lay down with a story-book after dinner, and I must have gone to sleep,’ said Isobel vaguely. ‘I suppose it was the party.’
She seemed to have forgotten all about her tumble, and the explanation made her mother laugh.