“I must ring up Mrs. Trotteville and ask her about the boy,” said Mrs. Hilton. “Poor child - he doesn’t seem at all well. I wish I hadn’t brought him up to you now. He did seem very tongue-tied and shy, I must say.”
The front door crashed shut. The children crowded to the window and watched the extraordinary French boy go limping down the drive. He still had his handkerchief in his hand, which every now and again he dabbed at his eyes.
“Well, if that’s one of Fatty’s friends I’m glad he didn’t ask us to play with him,” said Larry in disgust.
“I’ll just leave the boy time to get back to Mrs. Trotteville’s,” said Mrs. Hilton, “and then I really must telephone her to ask if he’s arrived all right and to apologize for your upsetting him so.”
The children stared at her indignantly.
“Upsetting him!” said Pip. “We didn’t do anything of the sort, He’s potty.”
“Don’t use that silly word about people,” said Mrs. Hilton.
“Well, dippy then,” said Pip, and got a glare from his mother. She was very particular about the way Pip and Bets spoke and acted.
“I’m sorry to think that you couldn’t put a little foreign boy like that at his ease,” she said, and spent a few more minutes saying the same kind of thing. Then she went to the telephone to ring up Mrs. Trotteville.
But she apparently got on to Fatty, who politely informed Mrs. Hilton that his mother was out and could he take any message for her?