have so often, as well as people.

I tried to smooth nurse down, and I frowned at Serry, who was just in a
humour to go on setting her up.

It was a pity to start so grumpily on our first walk, but things never
do go quite right for long in this world, do they?

'I'll tell you what we can do,' I said; 'we can see the church. It's
just a nice little walk by the road from here--you'd like that, wouldn't
you, Anne?'

'Yes,' said Anne, 'I like old churches.'

'So do I,' said Maud.

'Are there places you could hide in, in this church,' said Serry, 'like
in the old church at Furzely? Whenever I go there I can't help thinking
what lovely hide-and-seek we might have there.'

'Miss Serry,' said nurse, quite shocked, 'I think you should have
different ideas from that in your mind when you go to church.'

And of course we all thought so too. But it isn't much use taking up
anything Serry says, seriously. She _is_ so scatter-brained.

We had a nice enough walk after all. The road was beginning to dry up,
except at the side next the wood where the trees dripped on to it, for
the trees were really soaking. And we soon got nurse into a good humour
again; she's never cross for long. We made plans about all the nice
things we'd do, if only the weather would be really fine--tea in the
woods and things like that, you know.

'But it's early in the season still, my dears, you must remember,' said
nurse. 'It's not often you can plan for much out-of-doors before June is
near its end.'

'And then July is always a rainy month, people say,' said Anne. 'I do
think England's horrid for the weather being so uncertain.'

'Well, indeed,' said nurse, 'take it all in all, I think I'd rather have
our climate up in the north. It's cold, to be sure, a great part of the
year, but the summer is summer while it lasts. And then you know where
you are; in winter you can hap yourselves up and make the best of it,
while here in the south it seems to me that every day you have to think
if it's warm or cold, or what it is, all the year round, summer and
winter alike.'

I forget if I told you that nurse is Scotch. She hasn't really been in
Scotland since she was quite little, but she's very proud of it, and
she's very fond of using funny words, like 'stravaging.'

'They say the air here is like Scotland,' I said, 'so fresh and moor-y.
So you should like it, nurse. And you know there's a place here that
they send little ill children to from London;