I'd just got to where they all tumbled into the water when I forgot and laughed out loud.

Aunt woke up and, being more good-natured after her nap, told me to read a bit and show what frivolous work I preferred to the worthy and instructive Belsham.

I did my very best, and she liked it, though she only said...
"'I don't understand what it's all about.

Go back and begin it, child.'" "Back I went, and made the Primroses as interesting as ever I could.
Once I was wicked enough to stop in a thrilling place, and say meekly, 'I'm afraid it tires you, ma'am.

Shan't I stop now ?'" "She caught up her knitting, which had dropped out of her hands, gave me a sharp look through her specs, and said, in her short way, 'Finish the chapter, and don't be impertinent, miss'." "Did she own she liked it ?" asked Meg.
"Oh, bless you, no! But she let old Belsham rest, and when I ran back after my gloves this afternoon, there she was, so hard at the Vicar that she didn't hear me laugh as I danced a jig in the hall because of the good time coming.