sed Honor, "and it's no use pretending I like
it."

"This piece of embroidery has lasted me three terms, and it isn't
finished yet," said Maisie Talbot, leisurely snipping off a thread, and
pausing before she chose another piece of silk.

"I don't have to look at my knitting," said Chatty Burns; "but then,
I'm Scotch, and every Scotchwoman knits."

"You're getting on so fast, it will do for me as well," said Honor,
lying comfortably on the grass with her hands clasped under her head,
and watching Chatty's rapidly growing stocking. "It's a 'work of
supererogation', and that always leaves a little virtue over, to count
for somebody else."

"I didn't say I'd hand the extra merit on to you," retorted Chatty.

"You can't help it. If there's so much to spare it must go somewhere,
and I'm the idlest person; it will naturally fly to make up my
deficiencies."

"What a fallacious argument!" declared Maisie.

"Do you know," interrupted Ruth Latimer, "that it's exactly a fortnight
on Friday to the end of the term?"

"Know! I should think we do know!" replied Lettice. "I expect each one
of us is counting the days, and longing for the time to come, if I'm
any sample of the rest of the school. I say, 'One more day gone', every
night when I get into bed."

"It's glorious to think the breaking-up is so near," said Pauline
Reynolds. "What are you all going to do in the holidays?"

"We're starting for the Tyrol at the beginning of August," said Ruth.
"We want to have a walking tour. We shall leave our heavy luggage at
Botzen, and then tramp off up the mountains with just a few things in
knapsacks on our backs, and stop at chalets and little inns
('guest-houses', as they are called there) on the way. We shall feel
most delightfully free, because we can go any distance we like, and
shall not be bound to arrive at any special place by any special time.
That's the beauty of a walking tour."

"How far can you go in a day?" asked Honor.

"It just depends. If one is in the hot valleys, quite a short distance
knocks one up; but when one gets the real mountain air, one can march
along without feeling the least scrap tired. I once did twenty miles in
Switzerland, but that's my record."

"And a pretty good one," said Pauline, "particularly as one oughtn't to
reckon miles in Switzerland; one counts mountain climbing in hours."

"Yes, I've sometimes been deer-stalking at home," said Chatty, "and
it's a very different affair toiling u