“It’s nothing to do with that,” said Nancy in answer to his question. “It’s because she’s her godmother.—Why, David,” she exclaimed suddenly looking over his shoulder, “there’s my emery cushion which I lost ever so long ago!”
She pointed to a small cushion in the shape of a strawberry which lay among David’s treasures. He picked it up and put it into his pocket before she could get hold of it.
“It was in my cupboard,” he said slowly. “It had no business there. I shall ’fisticate it.”
“’Fisticate!” repeated Nancy with a laugh of contempt; “there’s no such word; is there, Pennie?”
“There is,” said David quite unmoved. “I had it in English history to-day. ‘All his lands were ’fisticated.’ I asked Miss Grey what it meant, and she said it meant ‘taken away,’ so I know it’s right.”
“You mean ‘confiscate,’” put in Pennie; “but I do wish, David, you wouldn’t try to use such long words when you write for the magazine. There’s a lot in the ‘Habits of the Pig’ I can’t make out, and it’s such a trouble to copy them.”
“I’m not going to lose my cushion at any rate,” said Nancy, springing suddenly on David, so that he rolled over on the floor. Dickie immediately cast herself on the top of them with shrieks of delight, while Pennie and Ambrose went quietly on with their occupation in the midst of the uproar as though nothing were happening.
“I wonder if the Merridews are nice?” remarked Ambrose; “fancy five girls!”
“Only four are going to learn,” said Pennie; “Miss Unity told me their names. There’s Joyce, and Ethel, and Katharine, and Sabine.”
“What rum names!” said Ambrose; “all except Katharine; almost as queer as Ethelwyn.”