"Oranges and unicorns say the bells of St. . . ." She looked to Harriet for inspiration. "Clunicorns?" "Somehow I don't think so." "Moonicorns." Sarah cocked her head to the side. "Better," she judged. "Spoonicorns? Zoomicorns." And . . . that was enough. Sarah turned back to her book. "We're done now, Harriet." "Parunicorns." Sarah couldn't even imagine where that one had come from. But still, she found herself humming as she read. Oranges and lemons say the bells of St. Clements. Meanwhile, Harriet was muttering to herself at the desk. "Pontoonicorns xyloonicorns . . ." You owe me five farthings say the bells of St. Martins. "Oh, oh, oh, I have it! Hughnicorns!" Sarah froze. This she could not ignore. With great deliberation, she placed her index finger in her book to mark her place and looked up. "What did you just say?" "Hughnicorns," Harriet replied, as if nothing could have been more ordinary. She gave Sarah a sly look. "Named for Lord Hugh, of course. He does seem to be a frequent topic of conversation."