The four Snowden children, with little Ella, were to return home by train that afternoon, the four-thirty from Farley Station accomplishing the journey to Berryland in the space of a few minutes.
"Hullo, Cinderella," was Kenneth's friendly greeting at the station, "how have you been getting on?"
"Oh, I've enjoyed it ever so much!" replied the child enthusiastically. "I'm in the same form as Gertie—isn't that lovely?"
"May you always think it so lovely, little 'un!" said Rupert. "If you were at Farley College, you wouldn't think it such high jinks."
"Isn't your school nice, then?"
"It's all right so far as schools go, but what would you think of a master who, the very first opportunity that came round, gave you a beastly imposition to write?"
"What's an imposition?" queried innocent Ella.
"It's imposing on you by giving you a punishment you don't deserve."
"That was very hard lines," said Ella; "but p'raps you did deserve it." This with a twinkle of fun in her eyes.
"Thank you for your sympathy," grinned Rupert; "now I shall know what to say to you when you get into disgrace at school."