Laura, glad of an excuse to leave the room, saw Mrs. Baldwin with another lump of delight in her mouth, and another page turned, and flew up the stairs. Here she found a general rebellion. The bad twins, Totty and Dickey, aged ten, were pinching the good twins, Jimmy and Sally, aged twelve. Horry and Dolly, who, not being twins, were called the odd ones, looked on complacently. Laura darted into the middle of the fray, and parted the fighters.
"Horry! Dolly! You ought to be ashamed of yourselves to see these children fight so. Horry, you are fourteen, and you, Dolly, are seventeen. Why don't you behave?"
"We are behaving," said Dolly, a girl in the stage of long legs, short frocks, and inky fingers. "We haven't touched them. I can't study my French lesson for the noise."
"And I've got my algebra to do."
"You shouldn't learn lessons on Sunday," said Laura.
"Why not? Gerty's gone to business."
"She has not. She only went to see if Mr. Tracey found his motor-car that was lost last night."
"Ah! And I'm glad of it," cried Horry triumphantly. "He wouldn't let me sit in it to watch."
"And a good thing to," said Dolly, pensively picking a hole in her stocking; "you started it last time."
"And nearly ran us over," said one of the good twins.