As soon as lunch was over, therefore, she went up to Miss Frost. Irene had danced away into the garden. She was the sort of girl who, having once made up her mind to do a thing, did it thoroughly. Now, she hated the Leaves beyond measure; she dreaded Miss Carter beyond measure; but she dreaded Rosamund still more. Accordingly, she secured a basket and a pair of scissors, and cut and cut from the choicest flowers until her basket was full. One of the gardeners came out and began to remonstrate with Irene on picking so many roses with buds attached to them; but Irene told him in a very tart voice to mind his own business, and in some fear the man withdrew. Then she went into the fruit-house and secured the earliest peaches which were coming into their finest bloom. And having collected what she considered her peace-offering, she sat down on a little wooden bench to wait for Rosamund and her governess.