CHAPTER III.
Wee modest crimson-tipped flower, Thou'st met me in an evil hour, For I maun crush amang the stoure Thy slender stem.
To spare thee now is past my power, Thou bonnie gem.
BURNS.
"Is this all the walking party ?" exclaimed Mr.Ernescliffe, as Miss Winter, Flora, and Norman gathered in the hall.
"Harry won't go because of Ethel's spectacles," answered Flora; "and Mary and he are inseparable, so they are gone with Hector to have a shipwreck in the field." "And your other sisters ?" "Margaret has ratted--she is going to drive out with mamma," said Norman; "as to Etheldred the Unready, I'll run up and hurry her." In a moment he was at her door.

"Oh! Norman, come in.

Is it time ?" "I should think so! You're keeping every one waiting." "Oh, dear! go on; only just tell me the past participle of 'offero', and I'll catch you up." "'Oblatus.'" "Oh, yes, how stupid.

The 'a' long or short?
Then that's right.

I had such a line in my head, I was forced to write it down.