"You lie!"
"You're another!"
"Ouch!"
"Leggo!—Leggo, I say!"
The tugging and panting of the small combatants, and the scuffling of their stout little shoes on the threadbare carpet, quite drowned the slight sound of the opening door.
"Cecil—Percy—my sons!" exclaimed a voice.
Jane Blythe shrugged her slim shoulders wearily in anticipation of what was to follow.
"I am surprised and displeased, Jane, that you should permit such a disgraceful scene to take place in the school-room without even attempting to quell it," went on the lady, advancing majestically into the center of the floor. "What do I see?—bread and butter on the floor, on the sofa, on the—yes, actually, on the mantle! and milk— Really, Jane, I fear you sadly forget your duties at times."
Miss Blythe had risen, apparently that she might bring her bright hazel eyes more nearly on a level with the frozen blue ones behind the double glasses which pinched the lady's aquiline nose.