“I believe I would. That is good, Cathalina. Translate it, Betty.”
“Take notice. The Latin Club meets today. Come, friends—associates?—companions?—come. Let all be present. The Latin language in literature and so forth.”
“What would Greycliff be in Latin, Mrs. Norris?”
“Let me see. ‘Mons’, ‘collis’, ‘saxum’, ‘rupes,’—that is it, ‘rupes.’ Then ‘glaucus’ is blue-grey, sometimes silver-grey, or sea-green.”
“Rupes, is feminine,” announced Eloise. “Q. E. D., Rupus Glauca, Greycliff! Feminae Rupis-Glaucae sumus. Est optima schola omnium gentium!”
“Mercy, Elo’, don’t go so fast; I can’t keep up with you!” cried Isabel. “We are the girls, or women, of Greycliff. It is——”
“The best school in the world,” finished Eloise. “Cathalina found some Latin by Charles Lamb, giving some lines of ‘Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary’ and ‘Little Jack Horner’; so two of the girls are going to dress up as children and recite them, and some others that Cathalina made up. Come on, Cathalina, cheer up your Latin teacher by reciting your latest masterpiece!”
“Mercy, I couldn’t before her.”
“Just ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb’!”
“All right.” Cathalina dropped a little curtsey, put one finger to her mouth and took hold of her dress with the other hand.