“You must promise beforehand not to be angry.”
“Angry! When am I angry, pray? Come, tell me.”
“You must—you really must—I have a particular reason for saying so—you must learn how much four times seven is. Now, remember, you promised not to be angry.”
Hugh carried off his anger by balancing himself on his head, as if he meant to send his heels over, but that there was no room. From upside downs his voice was heard saying that he knew that as well as Agnes.
“Well, then, how much is it?”
“Twenty-eight, to be sure. Who does not know that?”
“Then pray do not call it fifty-six any more. Miss Harold—”
“There’s the thing,” said Hugh. “When Miss Harold is here, I can think of nothing but fifty-six. It seems to sound in my ears, as if somebody spoke it, ‘four times seven is fifty-six.’”
“You will make me get it by heart too, if you say it so often,” said Agnes. “You had better say ‘twenty-eight’ over to yourself all day long. You may say it to me as often as you like. I shall not get tired. Come, begin now—‘four times seven’—”
“I have had enough of that for to-day—tiresome stuff! Now, I shall go and play with Harry again.”