“Miss Chrissie,” said Nurse, remaining in the doorway, “it is no use—no use whatever your going on calling to me like that. I have told you ever so many times this morning that I won’t and can’t put on your stockings for you. I promised your Mamma before she went away yesterday that I would not, and I cannot break my promise.”
“I can’t either,” was Chrissie’s reply, “and I’ve promised myself that I won’t put them on this morning, so there you see.”
Nurse turned away with a sort of groan.
“Oh dear,” she said, “it is really too bad of you. A young lady of ten behaving like a baby. I’ll come at once when you’re ready for me to do your hair, but not before. How can you behave so, and trouble in the house, too? Breakfast will be up directly, and Master Jasper all ready, and—” poor Nurse stopped short as she caught sight of another figure in the room. “Miss Leila,” she exclaimed, “what are you thinking of? Reading again before you’ve finished dressing! I heard your Mamma—”
“Oh bother, Nurse,” interrupted Leila, “I didn’t promise anything, so leave me alone, please. If I choose to read while I’m dressing, it’s my own business.”
Apparently poor Nurse was at the end of her patience, for she disappeared into the other room, repeating reproachfully, “and trouble in the house, too.”
“Rubbish,” said Chrissie contemptuously.
“There’s no trouble in this house. I didn’t care much for old Uncle Percy. Did you, Leila? He’s been ill such a long time, and last summer at Fareham it was horrid having to be so quiet.”
“I don’t mind being quiet if people will leave me in peace,” replied Leila.
“No, I daresay not, with your everlasting books,” Chrissie retorted; “but for all that, you needn’t think yourself any better than me. You like books and I like playing, and we both like to do what we like and not what we don’t, and I suppose that’s about all that can be said,” and she began swinging her feet defiantly.