“Oh, Cherry, it’s awful!”
“What have you done with him? Where’s the squire?” said Cherry, as soon as he could make himself heard.
“Oh, papa has seen him, and Jack’s taken him into his room,” said Nettie.
“He thought I was you,” said Jack. Cheriton stood still for a moment, as shy as the rest, then, with an effort, he ran upstairs.
“It’s only kind to go and say how d’ye do to a fellow,” he thought, as he tapped at the bedroom door, and entered with outstretched hand, and blushing to the tips of his ears. “Oh, how d’ye do? I’m so sorry I was out of the way; they kept me to nail up the wreaths. I’m very glad to see you. Aren’t you very cold?”
Probably the foreigner understood about half of this lucid and connected greeting; but something in the warmth of the tone made him come forward eagerly.
“You are then really my brother Cheriton? I thought it was again the other one.”
“What, Jack? Yes, we’re thought alike, I believe.”
“I do not see that,” said Alvar, contemplating him gravely; “but I have known you in my thoughts—always.”
“I’m sure—we’ve all thought a great deal about you. But there’s no one to help you. Have you got your things? I’ll ring,” nearly pulling down the bell-rope. “And, look here, I’ll just dress and come back, and go down with you—shall I?” Cheriton’s summons was rapidly answered, as curiosity inspired the servants as well as their masters; and leaving Alvar to make his toilet, he hastened upstairs. The three brothers slept in a long passage at the top of the house, over the drawing-room. As Cherry’s step sounded, both his brothers’ doors burst open simultaneously, and Jack and Bob, in various stages of dressing, at once ejaculated,—