"It is not my business to teach you to spell," said Gertrude, taking the
pen. And, while Jane was murmuring at her churlishness, she wrote in a
bold hand:

"I have broken the rules by sliding down the banisters to-day with Miss
Carpenter and Miss Wylie. Miss Wylie went first."

"You wretch!" exclaimed Agatha, reading over her shoulder. "And your
father is an admiral!"

"I think it is only fair," said Miss Lindsay, quailing, but assuming the
tone of a moralist. "It is perfectly true."

"All my money was made in trade," said Agatha; "but I should be ashamed
to save myself by shifting blame to your aristocratic shoulders. You
pitiful thing! Here: give me the pen."

"I will strike it out if you wish; but I think--"

"No: it shall stay there to witness against you. How see how I confess
my faults." And she wrote, in a fine, rapid hand:

"This evening Gertrude Lindsay and Jane Carpenter met me at the top of
the stairs, and said they wanted to slide down the banisters and would
do it if I went first. I told them that it was against the rules,
but they said that did not matter; and as they are older than I am, I
allowed myself to be persuaded, and did."

"What do you think of that?" said Agatha, displaying the page.