And Nellie drew "Not Wisely" to her own end of the table with the aid of a long ruler; then she followed the example of her iniquitous juniors and departed noiselessly.
It was nearly an hour before Meg turned round again. She had lost herself in some wonderful poems now,--"The Flight of the Duchess," "By the Fireside," and some of the shorter love pieces; she began to see possibilities of beauty and enjoyment, and felt glad with a great gladness that she was able to appreciate them even in a slight degree.
Then the silence struck her. Surely if Poppet were doing her sum, her pencil would be squeaking; and surely if Peter were engaged as he should be on his copy, he would be breathing laboriously and giving occasional little impatient grunts to testify to each fresh blot.
She looked round, and saw the deserted room.
"Took me at my word!" she said aloud. "They might have known I didn't mean it, young scamps,--Nellie too."
Then she smiled indulgently. The exquisite tenderness and the strength of the love pieces had softened and braced her at the same time.
"They're very young," she said, as she went out after them, "and--really it's very hot."
This was all in the morning. At night there was another breeze.
Bunty did not eat his pudding. That of itself was phenomenal, for it was brown with sultanas and had citron peel at wide intervals; generally he managed three servings, and, even then, said they might have made it in a bigger basin. But to-night he said "No pudding" in a sullen voice, and kicked the legs of his chair monotonously with his boot heels.
"You might have the common politeness to say thank you, I think," said Nellie, who was officiating at nursery tea in Meg's absence. "What a boor you are getting, John."
"Oh, go and hang yourself," he returned. He pushed his chair back from the table, and went out of the room with lowering brows.
"Sit down instantly, Poppet; do you think I'm going to allow you to behave like this?" Nellie cried. "If John has no more manners than a larrikin, you are not to follow his example. Sit down, I tell you, Poppet; _do_ you hear me?"
"Can't you see how white he is?" said the little girl, her lips trembling. "Nellie, I can't stay--no, I don't want pudding." She darted across the room and down the passage after him.