The morning was enough to give anybody the horrors, for it rained heavily; and there were the poor birds, soaking wet, and with their feathers sticking close to their sides, hopping about upon the lawn, looking for worms. All over the window-panes, and hanging to the woodwork, were great tears, as if the clouds shared my trouble and sorrow; while all the flowers looked drooping and dirty, and splashed and miserable. Then I began to think about Achille, and his coming to give his lesson that morning; and then about his being in the cistern, with those wonderful eyes looking out at me; when, there again, if there was not that tiresome old Tennyson's poem getting into my poor, weary head, and, do what I would, I could not keep it out. There it was--buzz, buzz, buzz--"Dreary--and weary--and will not come, she said;" till at last I began to feel as if I was the real Mariana in the Moated Grange. To make me worse, too, there was that poor Clara--pale-faced, red-eyed, and desolate-looking--sitting there dressed, and resting her hot head upon her hand as she gazed out of the window; and though I wished to comfort her, I felt to want the comfort more myself. At last I could bear it no longer, and, in place of weeping gently, I was so nervous, and low, and upset with the night's troubles, that I sat down and had a regular good cry, and all the while with that great, stupid, fat, gawky goose of a Patty sitting and staring at me, with her head all on one side, as she was brushing out half of her hair, which she had not finished in all the time I had taken to dress. "Don't, Patty!" I half shrieked, at last--she was so tiresome. "Well, I ain't," said Patty. "But please don't, then!" I exclaimed, angrily. "Don't what?" said the great, silly thing. "Don't stare so, and look so big and glumpy!" I exclaimed; for I felt as if I could have knocked off her tiresome head, only it was so horribly big; and I don't care what anybody says, there never were anywhere before such a tempting pair of cheeks to slap as Patty's--they always looked so round, and red, and soft, and pluffy. "You ain't well," said the nasty, aggravating thing, in her silly, slow way. "Take one of my Seidlitz powders." "Ugh!" I shuddered at the very name of them. Just as if one of the nasty, prickly-water, nose-tickling things was going to do me any good at such a time as this.