At this moment a shadow fell on the table, as of some one passing by the window, and the next moment Jack entered.
"What are you doing?" he asked, after the morning greetings, sitting down and scowling at the unoffending jam-pots. "Can't you come out in the garden? It's no end of a day, you know!"
"No end?" said Hildegarde. "Then I shall have plenty of time, and I must finish my jam-pots in any case, and my poetry."
"Poetry? are you making it?"
"Only learning it. I like to learn bits when I am doing things of this sort.
"'By Leucothea's lovely hands,
And her son that rules the strands'—
"Wait just a moment, Jack. I think I know it all now.
"'By Thetis' tinsel-slippered feet,
And the songs of Sirens sweet'—
Isn't that lovely, Jack?"
"Oh, yes," answered Jack absently. "What have you been doing here, Hilda?" He was studying the jars that were already marked, and now read aloud,—