“Isn’t the poor child even beginning to learn his Catechism?” asked Lady Charlotte.
“Yes, the garden,” said Aunt Phœbe to Mary, and the scene began to close upon the children as they moved gardenward. Joan danced ahead. Peter followed thoughtfully before Mary’s gentle urgency. What was that last word? “Cattymism?” Then a fresh thought occurred to him.
“Mary,” said Peter, in an impassioned and all too audible undertone; “look. She’s got a Whisker. Here! Troof!”
“It was my brother’s wish,” Phyllis was explaining as the children disappeared through the door....
“It isn’t the modern way to begin so early with rote-learning,” said Aunt Phœbe; “the little fellow’s still not five.”
“He’s a pretty good size.”
“Because we haven’t worried his mind yet. Milk, light, play, like a happy little animal.”
“We must change all that now,” said Lady Charlotte Sydenham with conviction.