'No; I wanted to take it to show Felix, but Mettie says it is too big, and would come to grief. What prizes have you, Robin?'
'Three. General good marks, catechism, and history—beautiful books.'
'Then the avenging harpies have forgiven you?'
'Pretty well; and they were very kind when you were ill, and the girls are much nicer; I am glad we stayed on, except for Angel's sake. Do you know, Lance, I really am afraid she is going in for naughtiness.'
'Give a dog an ill name—' quoted Lance. 'Is that it?'
'I do believe it is that! She is such a Tom-boy! Fancy! One afternoon, there was an awful uproar, and her class were all found playing at races, some riding astride with handkerchiefs round the forms, which they had named after the real horses; and the others pretending to bet on them, with their books in their hands, shouting out at the top of their voices.'
'Go it, Angel,' said Lance, laughing; 'that's the way Clem's sisters improve the tone of the school.'
Robina still looked distressed, but that was soon forgotten in visiting Lance's quarters, and admiring his books, peeping respectfully at his silent violin, and being lionised as far as his strength would permit. They were hand in hand the whole evening, till he was sent to bed, and his sisters were claimed by the Harewoods.
The Cathedral was resuming its usual voices on the Sunday morning; and when the early bell brought Wilmet from her room, she found Lance up and dressed, his little black gown on, and his trencher cap in his hand.
'That's nice!' he said in admiration, as she advanced in her fresh white piqué and blue ribbons. 'O Mettie, I'm so glad this isn't my last time here!' and he added, as she bent over him and kissed him, not quite able to speak, 'Please, Mettie, I beg your pardon for all the times I have been tiresome or cross.'