The night was hot and thunderous, and her windows were wide open.

Drifting in came the ever-recurring bells of Oxford, from the boom of the Christ Church "Tom," far away, through every variety of nearer tone.

Connie lay and sleepily listened to them.

To her they were always voices, half alive, half human, to which the dreaming mind put words that varied with the mood of the dreamer.
Presently, she breathed a soft good night into the darkness--"Mummy--mummy darling! good night!" It was generally her last waking thought.

But suddenly another--which brought with it a rush of excitement--interposed between her and sleep.
"Tuesday," she murmured--"Mr.Sorell says the schools will be over by Tuesday.