Magda broke out in warm self-defence before she knew that the words were coming.
"I've not been late once for three weeks. But if I make one single slip, that always means a scolding; and there's never any praise for doing better."
The manner was not too respectful, and she knew it. Fresh blame was certainly deserved on that score. Happily, the entrance of letters made a diversion, and no more was said. There were two for Magda, one from Rob, one from Patricia; and she flushed with pleasure at sight of the latter, having given up all hope of hearing.
Neither letter could have immediate attention. During Merryl's absence, some of the little duties always before done by Merryl had fallen to her share. She undertook them at first, in the mood of self-reproach, and soon they were expected as a matter of course. Mr. Royston liked to be waited on and fussed over by his daughters. She had to boil him an egg in the silver egg-boiler; and because she was in a hurry, she turned the whole toast-rack over on the floor, scattering its contents far and wide. Mr. Royston growled out that Merryl never blundered, and he desired Magda to leave things alone, and to go back to her seat. She obeyed, feeling aggrieved; and Mr. Royston, no less aggrieved, took up one of his letters. Pen meanwhile was reading hers from Mrs. Royston.
"They hope to come next week," she observed, to divert attention from Magda's misdeeds. "Mother says Merryl is still weak, poor little dear, and gets tired out directly. But the doctor advises home for a time. Then there is something about Rob. He is paying a visit at some place—what is the name? Rat—Rot—W-r-a-t-t—"
"Not Wratt-Wrothesley!" cried Magda in amaze.
"Why, what do you know about it?" demanded Pen.
Magda was examining the postmark of her own letter from Rob. "He actually is there. I didn't know he had ever come across the Miss Wryatts."
"When did you come across them?"
"I've never seen them. They are Bee Major's aunts."