"Make it yourself, and be quick about it."
Rufus caught up the family teapot and disappeared from the room, banging the door after him.
"How is it, dear," said Mr. Dixie, turning to his spouse, "that we always have ditch-water instead of tea on Sunday evenings?"
"Don't blame me, Robert," said the good lady. "It isn't to be wondered at. When eight spoilt children each want the strongest and the best, what can be left for a stranger? Florence, you might have told us that you were going to honor us with Miss Lestrange's company."
Poor Star! she had been trying to do her best, but it seemed to her that she was getting deeper and deeper into hot water each moment. What madness had seized her when she had hinted to Florence Dixie that she would like to go home with her? Already she had broken a rule of the school—a rule just expressed when they were all in trouble, and Miss Peacock was specially to be cared for and loved and honored. Oh, if she might only go home again!
After a great deal of squabbling and difficulty, and a great many words passing between one Dixie and another, a cup of tea which had been made in the kitchen was brought in and placed before Star. Scalding hot as it was, she drank it off, and then rose hastily to say good-by.
"I am very much obliged to you," she said to Mrs. Dixie.
Mr. Dixie accompanied her to the door; and Florence, feeling intensely important, went with her into the street.
"I'll walk all the way back with you if you like, Miss Lestrange."
But Star by no means wished for this.