She at once became friendly again: “I’m reading Vice Versa,” and she chuckled reminiscently, “And ... I’ve just finished the Talisman ... and I’d like to read Kenilworth.”
What a pity the Doña was not there to hear! But perhaps one of them would tell her what she had said, and she would guess.
“Which do you like best, Richard Cœur de Lion or Richard Bultitude?” asked Guy.
“Richard Bultitude!” laughed Rory scornfully, “Do you hear that, Anna? He thinks the old buffer’s name was Richard! But we know better; we know it was Paul, don’t we?”
Anna would have liked to have shared with Rory an appearance of superior knowledge; but honesty forced her to say: “Oh but the little boy was Richard Bultitude—Dickie, you know; his real name was Richard.”
“There, Rory! There!” shouted Guy triumphantly.
“Do you remember that girl’s—I can’t remember her name, that one that shoots a billet-doux at Mr. Bultitude in church—well, her papa, the old boy that gave the responses all wrong ‘in a loud confident voice,’ doesn’t he remind you rather of Uncle Jimmy?” said Rory to Guy.
“The best character in ... er ... that book is the German master, who ... er ...” began Harry.
“Oh yes, a heavenly creature—‘I veel make a leetle choke to agompany it’!” shrieked Concha.
“I hate Dulcie—I think she’s silly,” said Anna; but no one was listening to her, they were launched upon a “grown-up” discussion of Vice Versa that might last them till it was time to dress for dinner ... a rosy English company, red-mufflered, gaitered, bottle-green-coated, with shrieks of laughter keeping the slide “boiling” in the neighbourhood of Dingley Dell.