It was out of the placards, though, that all the trouble came; at least, it was partly that and partly our not hearing that Father had come home unexpectedly. You see, it was after we’d gone to bed, so we couldn’t possibly guess it of ourselves. So the next morning, when I heard the water running in the bathroom, which is next door to the room where Violet and I sleep, I thought of course it must be Humphrey. Ted doesn’t have baths in the morning because of being croupy, and, as I said, I didn’t know that Father was at home; besides, he always gets up much later. I’d been wanting to be awake when Humph had his bath for a long while, so I jumped up quickly, though it was very cold, and put on my dressing-gown and tore round to the bathroom door. Then I pushed a new placard under the crack, a very big one all done in red ink. It said, “Dirty Pig, scrub your toe-nails.” Well, I thought Humphrey might be cross, but I didn’t expect what really happened. There was a roar like a lion, and the door was pulled back, and there stood a perfectly strange gentleman. He was in his shirt and trousers; he was rather fat, and his face was scarlet; he could hardly speak, he was in such a rage. I was so astonished I couldn’t say anything either. At last he did. He shouted out, “_Unverschämtes Fraunzimmer_.” He said a lot more too that I didn’t quite understand, though it was only in German. Then he suddenly slammed the door in my face. Well, of course after that I didn’t feel very comfortable. I went back to my room and dressed myself, but my legs were all going wiggle-waggle most horridly, and I had a pain inside. I did want Mother. I wanted her so that I felt I must burst or something. I tried the plan of thinking that when I was an old, old woman I should have stopped being unhappy about this horrid time, but there wasn’t any comfort in that like there generally is. We children had breakfast in the schoolroom, because we always do when there are visitors, but I felt so sick that I could hardly eat any. And in the middle it happened. Father dashed in, just as I expected. He was dreadfully angry. I don’t think I have ever seen him so angry. He said that the German gentleman was a most celebrated musician, and even if I had heard any idiotic chatter of the maids about his not attending to his personal appearance, how dared I take it on myself to give him moral maxims worded in the most insulting language? I didn’t exactly know what Father meant by that, but it sounded horrid. Also, he said that I stuck myself up as being better than any one, and that my conceit was perfectly insufferable. After a lot more besides, he ended up by telling me that I should be sent to boarding school at once. Then he rushed out of the room again.