"Milton the poet," said Mary.
"I'm all in a maze," said the girl. "I don't know what you're talking about. But I suppose I'd better tell him."
The girl left them on the mat and knocked at a door just inside.
"Come in," said a man's voice.
"Please, sir," said the girl, "there are two children asking about someone named Milton."
The owner of the voice laughed. "Are they?" he said. "Well, they've come to the right shop." And then the door opened wider and a tall and handsome young man came out, dressed in a cricket blazer over a clergyman's waistcoat and collar, and smoking a large pipe.
"What's all this about Milton?" he said cheerily. "What Milton? Not the poet?"
"Yes," said Mary.
"Oh, I say, this is too good," said the young clergyman. "Vernon," he called out, "come here and see a deputation from Milton."
Another young man joined him, equally pleasant looking, and they all shook hands.