"Why don't you call him father?" asked Esther mildly; but at that question they both went off into fits of laughter, and she felt herself getting red without knowing why.
"What's your name?" asked Puck, when he had recovered himself; but his brother cut in by saying,—
"You know it's Esther—Old Bobby told us that."
"So he did; and he said you were frightened at him, and that we should have to teach you better. Fancy being frightened at an old buffer like that—a jolly one too!"
Esther sat in silent amaze. She knew they were talking of Mr. Trelawny, but she was dumfounded at their audacity, and it was rather disconcerting to hear that he was aware of her feelings towards him. She hoped that he took her silence for a grown-up reserve.
"You mustn't call Mr. Trelawny names," she said. "He's quite an old gentleman, and you must treat him with respect."
"I said he was a nice old buffer," said Puck, as though after that nothing more could be expected of him.
"But you call him 'Old Bobby,' and I can't think how you dare. It isn't at all respectful. I wonder he lets you."
"Well, he shouldn't play the bobby on us then," answered Pickle. "He said he'd come to carry us off, and he marched us out of the station like a pair of prisoners. We had to call him bobby after that. I want to go and see his house. Can we go up after tea?"
Esther shook her head. She was not prepared for such a move.