Aroused thus abruptly out of sleep, cross and startled, Mrs. Dare attacked the two boys with angry words. "I will know what you have been doing," she exclaimed, rising and shaking out the flounces of her dress. "You have been at some mischief! Why do you come violently in, in this manner, looking as frightened as hares?" "Not frightened," replied Cyril. "We are only hot. We had a run for it." "A run for what?" she repeated. "When I say I will know a thing, I mean to know it. I ask you what you have been doing?" "It's nothing very dreadful, that you need put yourself out," replied George. "One of old Markham's windows has come to grief." "Then that's through throwing stones again!" exclaimed Mrs. Dare. "Now I am certain of it, and you need not attempt to deny it. You shall pay for it out of your own pocket-money if he comes here, as he did the last time." "Ah, but he won't come here," returned Cyril. "He didn't see us. Is tea not ready?" "You can go to the school-room and see. You are to take it there this evening." The boys tore away to the school-room. Unlike Julia, they did not care where they took it, provided they had it. Miss Benyon was pouring out the tea as they entered. They threw themselves on a sofa, and burst into a fit of laughter so immoderate and long that their two young sisters crowded round eagerly, asking to hear the joke. "It was the primest fun!" cried Cyril, when he could speak. "We have just smashed one of Markham's windows. The old woman was at it in a nightcap, and I think the stone must have touched her head. Markham and Herbert were holding a confab together and they never saw us!" "We were chucking at the leathering bats," put in George, jealous that his brother should have all the telling to himself, "and the stone----" "It is leather-winged bat, George," interrupted the governess. "I corrected you the other night." "What does it matter?" roughly answered George. "I wish you wouldn't put me out. A leathering-bat dipped down nearly right upon our heads, and we both heaved at him, and one of the stones went through the window, nearly taking, as Cyril says, old Mother Markham's head. Won't they be in a temper at having to pay for it! They are as poor as charity." "They'll make you pay," said Rosa. "Will they?" retorted Cyril. "No catch, no have! I'll give them leave to make us pay when they find us out. Do you suppose we are donkeys, you girls? We dipped down under the hedge, and not a soul saw us. What's for tea?" "Bread and butter," replied the governess. "Then those may eat it that like! I shall have jam." Cyril rang the bell as he spoke. Nancy, the maid who waited on the school-room, came in answer to it. "Some jam," said Cyril. "And be quick over it." "What sort, sir?" inquired Nancy. "Sort? oh--let's see: damson." "The damson jam was finished last week, sir. It is nearly the season to make more." Cyril replied by a rude and ugly word. After some cogitation, he decided upon black currant.