having greeted Mr. Darcy and laid aside her wraps, drew up to the fire to
talk to him. But instead of doing the expected thing, Georgina did the
forbidden. Since the old man's knees were crossed so that she could no
longer climb upon them, she attempted to seat herself on his foot,
clamoring, "Do it again!"

"No, dear," Barbara said firmly. "Uncle Darcy's tired." She had noticed
the long-drawn sigh of relief with which he ended the last gallop. "He's
going to tell us about father when he was a little boy no bigger than
you. So come here to Barby and listen or else go off to your own corner
and play with your whirligig."

Usually, at the mention of some particularly pleasing toy Georgina would
trot off happily to find it; but to-day she stood with her face drawn
into a rebellious pucker and scowled at her mother savagely. Then
throwing herself down on the rug she began kicking her blue shoes up and
down on the hearth, roaring, _"No! No!"_ at the top of her voice.
Barbara paid no attention at first, but finding it impossible to talk
with such a noise going on, dragged her up from the floor and looked
around helplessly, considering what to do with her. Then she remembered
the huge wicker clothes hamper, standing empty in the kitchen, and
carrying her out, gently lowered her into it.

It was so deep that even on tiptoe Georgina could not look over the rim.
All she could see was the ceiling directly overhead. The surprise of such
a novel punishment made her hold her breath to find what was going to
happen next, and in the stillness she heard her mother say calmly as she
walked out of the room: "If she roars any more, Tippy, just put the lid
on; but as soon as she is ready to act like a little lady, lift her out,
please."