“Ah! Mrs. Ledwich; what is to be done with her, Ethel?”
“I am sure I can’t tell. If Flora were but at home, she would manage it.”
“Spencer can manage anything!” was the answer. “That was the happiest chance imaginable that you came home with me, and so we came to go by the same train.”
Ethel was only afraid that time was being cruelly wasted; but the best men, and it is emphatically the best that generally are so—have the boy strong enough on one side or other of their natures, to be a great provocation to womankind; and Dr. Spencer did not rest from his pursuit till the brood of the jackdaws had been discovered, and two gray-headed nestlings kidnapped, which were destined to a wicker cage and education. Little Aubrey was beyond measure proud, and was suggesting all sorts of outrageous classical names for them, till politely told by Tom that he would make them as great prigs as himself, and that their names should be nothing but Jack and Jill.
“There’s nothing for it but for Aubrey to go to school,” cried Tom, sententiously turning round to Ethel.
“Ay, to Stoneborough,” said Dr. Spencer.
Tom coloured, as if sorry for his movement, and hastened away to make himself sufficiently clean to go in quest of a prison for his captives.
Dr. Spencer began to bethink him of the paper that he had been so eagerly drawing up, and looking at his own begrimed hands, asked Ethel whether she would have him for a trustee.
“Will the other eight ladies?” said Ethel, “that’s the point.”
“Ha, Spencer! you did not know what you were undertaking. Do you wish to be let off?” said Dr. May.