At breakfast, on the following morning, whenever Diana opened her rosebud lips, she was told that she must not speak unless she could do so in the French tongue. Now, all that Diana could manage to say in French was 'Oui' and 'Non,' nor was she very certain when to say either of these very simple words. She hated being silent, for she was a very talkative, cheery little body, except when she was angry. Accordingly, the meal was a depressing one, and Diana began to yawn and to look wearily out on the sunshiny garden before it was half-finished. But, of course, there was no play in the garden for any of the children that morning. Immediately after breakfast they all went up to the schoolroom. Now, the schoolroom was a very pleasant room, nicely and suitably furnished, but in summer it was hot, and on very sunshiny days it was painfully hot; its single large bay window faced due south, and the sun poured in relentlessly all during the hours of morning school. Miss Ramsay, seated at the head of the baize-covered table with her spectacles on, looked decidedly formidable, and each of the children gazed at their governess with anxious eyes. Mary and Lucy were always good little girls, but Philip and Conrad were as idle as boys could possibly be, and did their utmost to evade Miss Ramsay's endeavors to instill learning into their small heads. Orion sat between his two little boy cousins, but for some reason or other Orion did not look well that morning. His little face, not unlike Diana's in appearance, was bloated, his eyes were heavy, he had scarcely touched his breakfast, and he earnestly, most earnestly longed to get out of the hot schoolroom.