'That's being drunk.'
'That isn't a nice word to use, Amerye.'
'It is not a nice thing to be,' said Amerye severely.
'Children! Children!' said Kitty. 'Tell us some more, Rosamond.'
'Last time I was in London,' began Rosamond eagerly, 'I sat to grandpapa with Petronilla on my lap.'
'Did you sit still?'
'I did, but Petronilla didn't. She wiggled and wobbled and made my hands simply ache. At last I got a ball of Auntie May's crewel wools to hold scrumped up into the shape of Petronilla. That was when he was doing my hands. I washed them first.'
'And is it like you—the portrait?'
'I don't know,' said Rosamond carelessly. 'Grandpapa keeps it in a corner with a lot of old easels and things on top of it. He is going to finish it, some day, when I'm altered. Now, Amerye, you can tell us about the Zoo.'
Amerye began in a great hurry, for fear, I suppose, Rosamond took back her permission.