chatter so awfully."

"Chatter," repeated Boris; "you don't mean to say you mind her
chattering?"

"Yes, I do, when I have a headache."

"Well, I think she's sweet," said Boris.

"You had better learn your 'Mariner,' Boris, and I'll sit in the window
and look out."

The schoolroom was so high up in the tower that people who sat in one of
its windows had really only a bird's-eye view of what went on below.

Boris, in his rather tumbled sailor suit, sat with his back to Nell. He
kicked the rungs of the chair very often with his sturdy legs. His inky
fingers took fond clutches of his curls, his lips murmured the rhyme of
the "Ancient Mariner" in a monotonous sing-song. Nell pushed open the
lattice window and looked out. There was a waggonette drawn by a rather
bony old horse standing by the side entrance; behind the waggonette was
a pony-cart, a good deal the worse for wear. The pony, whose name was
Shag, stood very still and flicked his long tail backwards and forwards
to keep the flies away. Nell saw Miss Macalister and two of the servants
come out with those flat delicious picnic baskets which she knew so
well, and which had so often made her lips water in fond anticipation;
they were placed with solemnity in the waggonette. Then Molly and Nora,
in their white sun-bonnets, took their places, and Hester and Annie sat
opposite to them, and Mrs. Lorrimer took the seat of honour, and two or
three of the smaller children were packed in heterogeneously, while Nan
and Kitty and Miss Macalister bundled themselves into the pony-cart.

Nell's heart beat high as she watched. Was no one going to think of her
and Boris? Was no one going to miss them?

Apparently no one was.

The gay cavalcade got under weigh and disappeared from view down the
long and lovely beech avenue.

Nell did not wish to go to the picnic, not to-day with her heart so
sore, but it made that heart feel all the sorer not to be missed.

CHAPTER VI.

FRIAR'S WOOD.

As a matter of fact, the picnic party imagined that Boris and Nell
intended to follow on later in the donkey-cart. The Lorrimer picnics
were well known in the neighbourhood. They always passed through the
village in the following order--first the waggonette, drawn by the bony
horse and packed to overflowing with baskets and young people, who waved
their arms and shouted in high glee as they went by; then the pony-trap,
driven sometimes by Jane Macalister, sometimes, when Jane was