The speaker turned anxious eyes in the direction of her younger sister, who sat kicking her heels on the faded carpet, and tilting her chair backwards and forwards as she chanted a French verb in a sing-song voice. “I’m sure I don’t know,” answered Sybil, throwing down her book and speaking in an aggrieved tone. “You’ve given me too much to learn, I’m sure, Gretta. I can’t possibly get it done by tea-time. Oh--_bother!_” She was interrupted by the entrance of a dishevelled, slatternly-looking maid who, capless and excited, burst into the untidy room.…
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