'But, do you know, I don't admire him half ath much ath Mr Rowland Prothero. Mamma thaith he ith tho gentlemanlike and that the meanth to athk him Tuethday.'
'Really!' again said Freda, not daring to look at Miss Hall.
'We are going to Llanfach to-morrow to hear him preach. Hith thermon wath beautiful in the school-room. Don't you think he ith like the picture at the beginning of "Evangeline." Dear me, who wath he, Freda?'
'Longfellow, you mean, I suppose.'
'Of courth. And hith language ith tho poetical. Mamma thaith the thouldn't wonder if he turned out a great author by-and-by. Thould you, Mith Hall?'
'It takes so much to make a great author, dear; but it is just possible.'
'But not probable,' whispered Freda.
'Oh, Freda! don't you like him? I am thure you ought; he managed everything tho nithely for you yethterday. Mamma thaith—Ah! there is Colonel Vaughan coming up the drive.'
Miss Hall looked across at Freda, and remarked that she began to draw most industriously, and did not glance out of the window as Miss Nugent did.
'Mamma thaith,' began that young lady, 'that the colonel ith the motht accomplithed and agreeable man in Waleth.'