"I dare say it is only some nonsense," said Eleanor, gravely, for she
was rather apt to plume herself on being steadier than her elder
sister.

"It is no nonsense," said Lucy. "I know what I know."

Before Eleanor had time to answer this speech, the mystery of which
was enhanced by a knowing little nod of the head, young Mr. Enderby
made his appearance in the hall, with a civil good-morning to Walter,
which the boy hardly deigned to acknowledge by a gruff reply and
little nod, and then going on to the little girls, renewed with them
yesterday's war of words. "Weaving posies, little ladies?"

"Not for rebels," replied Lucy, pertly.

"May I not have one poor daisy?"

"Not one; the daisy is a royal flower."

"If I take one?"

"Rebels take what they can't get fairly," said Lucy, with the
smartness of a forward child; and Sylvester, laughing heartily,
continued, "What would General Cromwell say to such a nest of little
malignants?"

"That is an ugly name," said Eleanor.

"Quite as pretty as Roundhead."