"Quite right, quite right," said Mr. Dolman. "Anything Mrs. Dolman wishes, of course. Miss Ramsay, I shall not be home to tea this evening. I have to go to visit a sick parishioner at the other end of the parish. Good-by, Lucy; good-by, the rest of you children. I hope to see you all before bedtime; if not—"
"But, father," burst from Ann, "the new children will be here about six."
"They cannot arrive before half-past six, my dear," replied Mr. Dolman.
"Ann, you have again spoken English," said Miss Ramsay; "I shall be forced to punish you. You will have to stay in after the others this afternoon, and learn ten lines of your French poetry."
Poor little Ann colored and her lips trembled. She really felt dreadfully excited, and it was terrible to have to bottle up all her thoughts during the long, hot day.
Immediately after dinner the children went up to the schoolroom, where they lay down on the floor for half an hour to learn their lessons.
At three o'clock the ordinary lessons began again, and went on without interruption until five, when there was tea. After tea the children were supposed to have the rest of the day to do what they liked in. But on this occasion, Ann was kept in the schoolroom to learn her French poetry as best she could. The ten lines were difficult, and the little girl felt sleepy, cross, and dissatisfied. Soon her small, curly head fell upon her plump arms, and sleep took possession of her little soul.
Miss Ramsay came in and found her in a state of heavy slumber.
"Ann!" she cried; "Ann!"
Little Ann raised herself with a start.