"No," said Molly complacently, "I always could remember the four Georges. Sylvia will tell you. She always remembered the Norman Conquest, and King John, and so when we spoke about something to do with these dates when we were out a walk Miss Bryce used to be as pleased as pleased with us."
"Is that the superlative of 'very pleased,' my dear Molly?" said aunty.
Molly wriggled.
"History is bad enough," she muttered. "I don't think we need have grammar too, just when I thought we were going to have nice story-talking. Did you like lessons when you were little, grandmother dear?" she inquired in a louder voice.
"I don't know that I did," said grandmother. "I was a very tom-boy little girl, Molly. And lessons were not nearly so interesting in those days as they are made now."
"Then they must have been—dreadful," said Molly solemnly, pausing for a sufficiently strong word.
"What did you like when you were little, grandmother?" said Sylvia. "I mean, what did you like best?"
"I really don't know what I liked best," said grandmother. "There were so many nice things. Haymaking was delicious, so were snow-balling and sliding; blindman's buff and snapdragon at Christmas were not bad, nor were strawberries and cream in summer."
The children drew a long breath.
"Had you all those?" they said. "Oh, what a happy little girl you must have been!"