Christabel wanted to learn botany for her own pleasure. She found a book which Susan and Bessie pronounced to be horridly stupid (indeed Annie called it nasty, and was reproved for using such a word), but when the information in it was minced up small, and brought out in a new form, Bessie enjoyed it extremely. The whole party were delighted to gather flowers for Miss Fosbrook—the wetter or the steeper places they grew in the better; but the boys thought it girlish to know the names; and Susan, though liking gardening, did not in the least care for the inside of a flower. Elizabeth, however, was charmed at the loveliness that was pointed out to her; and even Annie, when the boys were not at hand, thought it very entertaining to look at petals, stamens, and pistils, and to see that a daisy is made up of a host of tiny flowers. Both little sisters were having their eyes opened to see some of the wonder and some of the glory of this earth of ours. It made Bessie much less often tired of everything and everybody; though after all there is but one spirit that is certain never to be weary or dissatisfied, and into that she had yet to grow. Fines were much less frequent: there were no foolish tears; only one lesson of John’s turned back, two of Annie’s, one of Susan’s; some unbrushed hair of Susan’s too—an unlucky mention of the raven by Annie in lesson-time—and some books left about by Sam. Henry’s fines were the serious ones: he had two for incorrect sums, one for elbows on the table, three for talking, one for not putting his things away; and besides, he _could not_ go without a pennyworth of string; and the Grevilles would have laughed at him if he had not bought some more marbles. But what did that signify when Colonel Carey was coming? and a sovereign would buy a pig three times over—at least, if it was quite a little one. Christabel wished the hope of that sovereign had never occurred to him, for he seemed to think it quite set him free from the little self-restraints by which the others were earning the pleasure of making the gift; and though he still talked the most about the pig, he denied himself the least for it. One evening the boys came in with a great piece of news. Their tutor had read in the paper that Admiral Penrose was appointed to the _Ramilies_, to take command in the Mediterranean. He was a great friend of their father, and, said the boys, was most likely to make him his flag-captain. “And me a naval cadet!” said Hal. “He said he would, when he was here!” “One of you, he said,” put in Susan. “I know it will be me!” said Hal. “He looked at the rigging of my frigate, and said I knew all the ropes quite well; and he told Papa he might be proud of such a son!” “Oh! oh!” groaned the aggrieved multitude.