“Good is as good goes,” Nurse replied cryptically. “Neither of them is a patch on Master Hal and Master William--and _they_ were nothing much, neither!” hastily, to impress Lottie and Ursula with her complete detachment from an attitude of faithful devotion ... and Ursula thought regretfully of Good-my-Nurse and her Posset. “Well, if you won’t stay, don’t, but then don’t say I’m drivin’ you out of the room, because you’re welcome enough.” “No, indeed, I’m sure it’s a great deal more your little kingdom than ours.” “It was your schoolroom before it was my nursery,” Nurse argued against herself, struggling to maintain her part in the atmosphere of mutual courtesy. “But then, again, it was my nursery before it was ever your schoolroom, too, so----” Baby began to roar; and Miss Roberts, still in an affable state of thanks, departed with Ursula and Lottie. Lessons were continued in the drawing-room. Aunt Lavvy sat with the paper in the armchair near the window; Mrs. Maxwell bustled in and out, and Lottie practised at the piano, with a metronome; while Ursula, who was rather good at mathematics, evilly pretended that she could not understand why the right angle A B C _must_ be equal to the right angle X Y Z, because Miss Roberts so obviously did not understand why, either. Lottie was always “especially nice” to Miss Roberts; for Grace had explained to her that one ought to be nice to dependants; but Ursula had portions of conscience strangely undeveloped. At her very best, she was never so considerate as Grace and Lottie, nor so thoroughly decent as Nina. And Gums exasperated her by always proving softer material than the substance against which she was thrown. “Don’t be rude to your inferiors, kid--’tisn’t sporting,” Nina bluntly told her, after overhearing a skirmish. “It makes them feel their position so terribly,” said Grace more kindly. “I’m rude to everybody else, so if I stopped being rude to just Miss Roberts, it ought to make her feel her position ever so much more.” “It ought to, but it wouldn’t, because she’s got no brains,” Bunny demolished Ursula’s not unskilful defence. “Then she oughtn’t to be our governess.” “You’d get’em just as soft at school. One of our chaps----” Bunny told the anecdote, with himself quite well-placed as a picturesque centre. “If you’ve got real brains you don’t teach, because it makes you too sick having to listen to the duds.” “What costly rot you talk, Bunny. I suppose that’s just because it makes them sick at Winborough having to teach _you_----”