Christmas, I've got some flowers for Mrs. Overtheway, only I did it so
stupidly; she will think me a perfect goose, and perhaps be angry,"
and the tears came into Ida's eyes.

"She'll think you a naughty, troublesome child, as you are," said
Nurse, who seldom hesitated to assume the responsibility of any
statement that appeared to be desirable; "you're mad on that old lady,
I think. Just look at that dress!"

Ida looked, but her tears were falling much too fast for her to have a
clear view of anything, and the torn edges of the rent seemed fringed
with prismatic colours.

To crown all she was sent to bed. In reality, this was to save the
necessity of wearing her best frock till the other was mended, and
also to keep her warm in case she should have caught cold; but Nurse
spoke of it as a punishment, and Ida wept accordingly. And this was a
triumph of that not uncommon line of nursery policy which consists in
elaborately misleading the infant mind for good.

Chim! chime! went the bells next morning, and Mrs. Overtheway came
down the white steps and through the green gate with a bunch of
primroses in her hand. She looked up as usual, but not to the sky. She
looked to the windows of the houses over the way, as if she expected
some one to be looking for her. There was no face to be seen, however;
and in the house directly opposite, one of the upper blinds was drawn
down. Ida was ill.

How long she was ill, and of what was the matter with her, Ida had no
very clear idea. She had visions of toiling through the wood over and