These came a morning when Miss Kezia breakfasted in angry state, alone. At eight o'clock she sat down, as usual, to the table. With down-drawn lip she filled the five cups with coffee, then started on her porridge. Every now and then her eye glanced at the four bowls of porridge with their rapidly lessening issue of steam. From overhead there came, at intervals, the banging of a door, the rush of footsteps from one room to another, a burst of laughter now and then. Miss Kezia went on with her breakfast. Once Sarah knocked timidly, and, with a scared face, dared the whispered suggestion that she should take the porridge "to keep it hot." Her courage failed before ever Miss Kezia's grim lips had begun to frame an answer, and she fled back to the refuge of the kitchen.
From above came Denis's voice, jubilant, a musical shout of joy.
"'Miss Judy O'Connor, she lived forninst me
And tinder words to her I wrote—'
"I say, Nell, did I leave my towels in your room?"
Down came Miss Kezia's upper lip.
From above:—
"A stud is an animate article, possessing the human attributes of legs and devilment—got him, by Jove! Now thin ye young devil, is it hidin' from me, indeed! I'll be teachin' ye a lesson—"
"Denis, have you seen my hair-ribbon?"
"Oh," this was Nell's voice, "I wish I had a tail like a kitten, to run round and round after!"
Miss Kezia's expression grew painfully long-suffering.