This astonished their parents very much, because they had always thought it was so nice for the children to have dear Miss Hervey's to go to.
The thought of seven weeks at Miss Hervey's was not to be borne, and all three wrote home and said so. Betty's school broke up before theirs, and so she got to the Hampshire home first, and the moment she got there she began to have measles, so that my three couldn't go home at all. Their Cousin Betty was to be there too, and there were plans. So they looked forward to the holidays, when they should all go home and be together all day long, in a house where playing was natural and conversation possible, and where the Hampshire forests and fields were full of interesting things to do and see. You know the kind of house, don't you? There is a sort of a something about that kind of house that makes you hardly able even to talk to each other when you are left alone, and playing seems unnatural and affected. They used to see each other on Saturdays and Sundays at the house of a kind maiden lady but it was one of those houses where it is impossible to play. And they were at school in a little town in the West of England-the boys at one school, of course, and the girl at another, because the sensible habit of having boys and girls at the same school is not yet as common as I hope it will be some day. Of course, Jerry's name was Gerald, and not Jeremiah, whatever you may think and Jimmy's name was James and Kathleen was never called by her name at all, but Cathy, or Catty, or Puss Cat, when her brothers were pleased with her, and Scratch Cat when they were not pleased.
There were three of them-Jerry, Jimmy, and Kathleen.
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