'I'll help you to get your things together,' she went on, 'and you must go downstairs as quietly as possible.'
We collected my books. It made me melancholy to see them, there were such piles of exercises grandmamma had never had time to look over! Belinda heaped them all on to the top of my atlas, the glass ink-bottle among them.
'Are they quite steady?' I said. 'Hadn't I better come up again and only take half now?'
'Oh, dear, no,' said Belinda,'they are right enough if you walk carefully,' for in her heart she knew that she should have helped me to carry them down, herself.
But I had got used to her careless ways, and I didn't seem to mind anything much now, so I set off with my burden. It was all right till I got to the first floor—the floor where grandmamma's and Cousin Agnes's rooms were. Then, as ill luck would have it—just from taking extra care, I suppose—somehow or other I lost my footing and down I went, a regular good bumping roll from top to bottom of one flight of stairs, books, and slate, and glass ink-bottle all clattering after me! I'm quite sure that in all my life before or since I never made such a noise!
Up rushed two or three ... men, Cousin Cosmo the first.—P. 160.
I hurt myself a good deal, though not seriously; but before I had time to do more than sit up and feel my arms and legs to be sure that none of them were broken, the library door below was thrown open, and up rushed two or three—at first sight I thought them still more—men! Cousin Cosmo the first.
'In heaven's name,' he exclaimed, though even then he did not speak loudly, 'what is the matter? This is really inexcusable!'