“Stupid things!” Jack muttered, and he struck one hand with the other quite savagely. “Mother, what shall we do if they won’t keep me on there?”
“There” meant the office where he was at work.
“But they must, Jack,” Cherry said before I could speak. “You must please them.”
Her answer was so good that I attempted no other. We were silent for half a minute, and in that half minute there was a sharp peal at the front door. Cherry rose to answer it, but Owen forestalled her.
Owen came next after the twins in age. He was not quite fourteen, a steady lad, rather slow in his way of doing things, but always ready to help other people. Sometimes I wished I could put a little of my own quicksilver into him. Perhaps he did as well without it.
He left the room in his usual deliberate way; but his return was not so deliberate. There was a short parley outside, a childish voice chiming in with his. Then our door was flung wide open, and Owen came in with a leap, his face crimson.
“Father!” he cried. “Mother! She says she’s our cousin.”
Robert sat upright, startled out of his doze, hardly yet awake enough to speak. Cress muttered, “What a racket!” and I said, “My dear, what do you mean?”
“She says she’s our cousin. I’ll bring her in,” cried Owen.
He was off again before we could check him; and indeed I think we were all bewildered. The next moment Owen stood once more before me, and beside him was a girlish figure, not much shorter than Cherry, with thick fur round throat and wrists, and hair of pale flaxen curling down her back from under a small furry hat. The delicate little face showed no trace of colour, except in a pair of bright red lips and the black eyes looked wistfully up into mine.