And as they went back along the dusty road she told them what had happened.
‘I must ask the Uncle at once if he knows Lord Andore,’ she said; ‘and he can telegraph to him like he did to India, and then everything will be all right.’
‘But,’ said Charlotte, ‘we promised we wouldn’t disturb him for anything. Suppose he doesn’t appear at tea?’
‘Then we must do something else,’ said Caroline. ‘It’s the realest thing I’ve ever had the chance of doing—except you, Rupert,’ she added politely; ‘and if we can’t get at the Uncle we’ll try a spell. Every single spell we’ve tried has come right. First the fern-seed; then the——’
‘Yes, I know,’ said Rupert hastily, ‘and it’s all right to play at. But this is a real thing. I’ve got a godfather that’s a baronet. I’ll write to him to go to the House of Lords and tell this Lord Andore. Appeal to Cæsar himself, don’t you know. How’s that?’
‘Yes, do,’ said Charlotte; ‘but we’ll work the spell as well. We may as well have two strings to our harp like that blind girl in the picture. What spell can we do?’
‘We’ll look it up in the books,’ Caroline said importantly; ‘and, Rupert, if we pull it off and she doesn’t get turned out of her house, you will believe the spell, won’t you?’
‘I’ll try,’ said Rupert cautiously; ‘and, anyway, I’ll write to my godfather. Only he’s in Norway. I’d better telegraph, perhaps?’
‘It’ll cost pounds, won’t it?’ said Charles admiringly.
‘Never mind,’ said Rupert carelessly. ‘Mrs. Wilmington will lend me the chink till I get my allowance. Let’s do the thing properly while we’re about it. You may as well be hanged for a sheep as——’