"But," began Agatha, and the tone of consideration to that one
conjunction caused an outburst. "Oh, Nag, Nag, if you are gone over
to the enemy, what will life be worth?"

As that terrible question was propounded, in burst Thekla with, "Oh,
Nag, Nag, they are cutting the hay in the high torr field, and sister
says we may go and see them before I read my French."

"Oh!" cried Vera, with a prolongation into a groan, "is she going to
be tiresome?"

"She has come to be quite a don," said Paula; "but never mind, we
will soon make her all right again."

The two sisters had to go to their different classes in the
afternoon, and wanted Agatha to go with them; but it was a very warm
day, and she preferred resting in the garden, and, to Magdalen's
surprise and pleasure, conversation with her. At first it was about
Oxford matters, very interesting, but public and external to the
home, and it did not draw the cords materially closer; but when
Thekla had privately decided that even hanging upon the newly
recovered Nag was not worth the endurance of anything so tedious, and
had gone off to assist her beloved old gardener in gathering green
gooseberries, Magdalen observed that she was a very pleasant little
pupil, and was getting on very well, especially with arithmetic.

"That was the strong point in the junior classes," said Agatha;
"better taught than it was in my time."

"I wish she could have more playfellows," said Magdalen. "She would