"Certainly. Listen to me, Ruth and Lionel, both of you. Your cousin will walk from the lodge to the house, and you can go to meet him. He will probably arrive shortly after ten."
"Yes, grandfather," they replied.
"That's all. Now you may go."
They obeyed quietly; but the minute they were out of the room they rushed helter-skelter upstairs to fetch their hats, and, retracing their footsteps, went out of the front door and through the front garden to the grounds beyond.
"I know he'll be a hateful young prig!" Lionel remarked as soon as they were out of call from the house. He, of course, referred to his unknown cousin. "I'm certain he will be from the way grandfather spoke of him!"
Ruth nodded. She had forgiven his brotherly kick, and was in entire sympathy with him now.
"Holds up his head and looks one in the face!" the boy continued scornfully, quoting Sir Richard's words. "Puts on airs, no doubt, and thinks he's mighty fine because he'll be master here one day! Well, one thing I know—he won't boss me about!"
"Nor me!" echoed Ruth, in her shrill treble.
"A wretched kid like that!" Lionel cried wrathfully. "Why, he's no older than you! We're to be kind and friendly to him! Did you hear that? And his mother was a nobody! She hadn't a penny to bless herself with; and Uncle Richard made a great mistake when he married her! I heard mother say so! Dr. Warren is her uncle, and he lives in the village opposite a baker's shop!" and there was scorn and contempt in the boy's tone.
"I like Dr. Warren," Ruth said. "I thought you did too, Lionel! Don't you remember how kind he was last year when we had the measles?"