Perhaps among all the suffering sisterhoods it would have been difficult to find a young lady less liable to catch such a disorder herself, than Aunt Judy; and perhaps that was the reason why she used to do such tremendous battle with No. 3, whenever, after his return from school for the holidays, he happened to have an attack.
“What are you groaning at through the window, No. 3?” she inquired on one such occasion; “is it raining?”
A very gruff-sounding “No,” was the answer—No. 3 not condescending to turn round as he spoke. He proceeded, however, to state that it had rained when he got up, and he supposed it would rain again as a matter-of-course, (for his especial annoyance being implied,) and he concluded:—
“It’s so horribly ‘slow’ here, with nothing to do.”
No. 6, who was sitting opposite Aunt Judy, doing a French exercise, here looked up at her sister, and perceiving a smile steal over her face, took upon herself to think her brother’s remark very ridiculous, so, said she, with a saucy giggle:—
“I can find you plenty to do, No. 3, in a minute. Come and write my French exercise for me.
No. 3 turned sharply round at this, with a frown on his face which by no means added to its beauty, and called out:—
“Now, Miss Pert, I recommend you to hold your tongue. I don’t want any advice from a conceited little minx like you.”
Miss Pert was extinguished at once, and set to work at the French exercise again most industriously, and a general silence ensued.
But people in the nothing-to-do complaint are never quiet for long. Teazing is quite as constant a symptom of it, as growling, so No. 3 soon came lounging from the window to the table, and began:—