Margaret looked at her sharply, and muttered something that sounded uncommonly like ‘Little beast!’ which seemed to the child rather more than she deserved, considering that it was really Jean’s fault and not hers at all. She was rather surprised at the head girl’s next words, which seemed quite gentle by comparison.
‘Why, you look blue with cold, child,’ she remarked, and drew her round by the fire. ‘Now, stand there, and tell me what history books you have been using.’
‘I haven’t used any,’ answered Babs. ‘I haven’t had any history lessons, you see.’
‘Do you mean to say you know nothing about the history of England–nothing about wars or kings or laws, or any of those things?’ inquired Margaret, raising her eyebrows.
Barbara’s face brightened. ‘Oh, yes,’ she said, ‘I know all about them from father, and the British Museum, and books. I didn’t know that was history.’
Margaret was a little puzzled. The examination of this new girl looked as though it were going to present difficulties. ‘What kind of books?’ she asked doubtfully.
‘Lots of kinds,’ answered Barbara, glibly. ‘Napier’s History of the Peninsular War, and somebody else’s History of the Anglo-Saxons, and another one called The Four Georges, and–and–oh, that long stuffy one, cut up into volumes, with ever so many funny words in it, called Cromwell’s Life and––’
‘That’s enough,’ cried Margaret, and she looked in amazement at the small animated face of the new girl. ‘I–I think that will do for history,’ she went on hastily. ‘Now, what about geography? I suppose you know the elements, so I won’t––’
‘What’s elements?’ interrupted Babs.
‘Well, the beginning part,’ explained the head girl–‘the part that tells you the meaning of islands and volcanoes and earthquakes, and what the world is like inside, and things about the moon and the––’