"
"No, that's for me, Sam," said Christabel good-humouredly. "A
London-bred sparrow; a pert forward chit."
She really had found a safety-valve; the boys were entertained, and
diverted from their attack on their favourite victim, by finding
everyone an appropriate bird; and when they came to "Tomtits" and
"Dishwashers," were so astonished at Miss Fosbrook's never having
seen either, that they instantly fell into the greatest haste to
finish their tea, and conduct her into the garden, and through a
course of birds, eggs, and nests, about which, as soon as she was
assured that there was to be no bird's-nesting, she was very eager.
Bessie ought to have been thankful that her persecutors were called
off, but she was in a dismal mood, and was taken with a fit of
displeasure that her own Christabel Angela was following the rabble
rout into the garden, instead of staying in the school-room at her
service.
The reason of her gloom was, that Miss Fosbrook had spoken a word
that she did not choose to take home, and yet which she could not
shake off. So she would neither stay in nor go out cheerfully, and
sauntered along looking so piteous, that Johnnie could not help
making her worse by plucking at her dress, by suddenly twisting her
cape round till the back was in front, and pushing her hat over her
eyes, till "Don't Johnnie," in a dismal whine, alternated with "I'll
tell Miss Fosbrook.
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