Читать книгу The Fairy Latchkey онлайн

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“They ruled with rods of iron,” responded Philomène absently.

“You are not attending properly, child,” said Miss Mills, “or you would not repeat things parrot-fashion out of the book in that way. Do you suppose that one took the poker and the other the tongs? And, you know, you were very careless too about reciting your psalm this morning, saying that the trees of the Lord were full of soup, when you know perfectly well that they aren’t any such thing. What has come over you? Take down your work for to-morrow.”

It was no wonder that Philomène found it difficult to attend to her lessons that day, for she could think of little else than the coming examination, and when tea at last appeared she felt too much excited to eat.

“Now don’t begin to be faddy, Miss, like Master Harold,” said Nurse.

“Who was Master Harold?” asked Philomène, “he wasn’t one of the Ruthven-Smiths, was he?”

“No,” said Nurse, “he was one of their cousins, and he came to stay with them, and a mighty long visit he paid too. I never did like him from the first moment I set eyes on him; he was all fads and fancies, and one day, I remember, he made my poor dear little Miss Maisie cry by telling her that her legs looked like two snakes that had swallowed oranges, and they were no fatter than his own in the middle, for that matter. But if you won’t get along with your tea, Miss, you had better say grace, and run into the garden.”


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