said Boris. "I hate them. I can't think
what use they are. What can it matter in a big world like this, crowded
up with boys and girls and men and women, whether I can spell right or
not? _I_ don't mind, and I don't see why anyone else should bother."

"I like spelling," said Kitty, who had a very intelligent face. "If I
were a man or an embryo man, which you are, Boris, I'd have ambition,
and I'd try to get on. I'd like to walk over the heads of the other
boys, if I were you, and to take their prizes from them, and to have
father and mother looking on, and a lot of grand ladies and gentlemen
all dressed in their best praising and cheering and bowing and smiling.
But boys are no good in these days. It's girls who do everything. Now,
do be quick and let's feed the rats."

"You talk such nonsense," said Boris. "You don't suppose that ladies and
gentlemen care whether boys and girls spell words right or not, and what
rubbish you do say about best clothes and smiling and bowing."

"I don't," said Kitty, crossly; "it's you who talk rubbish. You have
never been to school, so you can't possibly tell. You ask Nan Thornton,
and she'll soon tell you what's done at school. Oh dear, oh dear, I wish
I were at Lavender House instead of doing my lessons with stupid Jane
Macalister!"

"You talk very dis'pectful," said Boris.

"Do I? I don't care. Oh, I _am_ glad you didn't part with the white
rat!"

CHAPTER V.

NOT MISSED.

Jane Macalister was the governess. She was old--at least the Lorrimers
considered her old--she wore spectacles, and her hair was slightly
tinged with grey. She had a queer mixture of qualities. She was
affectionate and narrow; she was devoted to her pupils, and thought she
could best show her devotion by an unceasing round of discipline.
Fortunately, both for her and the little Lorrimers, this discipline
never extended beyond the hours devoted to lessons. It never showed its
stern visage in play hours, nor at meals, nor at night, nor on half
holidays, nor on Sundays. During all these times, Jane was the
intelligent and much belaboured companion. She was at everyone's beck
and call. She was to be found here, there, and everywhere--darning the
rent in Molly's frock, or helping Nora with her drawing, or trying to
find a story-book for Nell which she had not already read at least six
times, or healing the small squabbles with which Boris and Kitty helped
to beguile the weary hours. Mrs. Lorrimer consu