“Maria! Maria!” called Mrs Mason.
A young woman—no, a woman not quite young—came up the stairs from the depths of the house at the call.
“Yes, Mother?”
Maria listened to Mrs Mason’s instructions for making up a truckle bed in Mr. Hornblower’s room.
“Yes, Mother,” she aid.
“Not teaching today, Maria?” asked Hornblower pleasantly.
“No, sir.” The smile that lit her plain face showed her keen pleasure at being addressed.
“OakApple Day? No, not yet. It’s not the King’s Birthday. Then why this holiday?”
“Mumps, sir,” said Maria. “They all have mumps, except Johnnie Bristow.”
“That agrees with everything I’ve heard about Johnnie Bristow,” said Hornblower.