But loudliest thumps this heart to-day,
While in the mud you pick your way,
(You fawn, you flower, you star, you gem,)
In your new boots with heels to them.
Your Eldest Slave.
"I don't consider these verses a bit more consecutive than Conyngham's talk," said John, laughing.
"Well, father, then he shouldn't say such things! He said Mr. Brandon walked with an infallible stride, and that you were the most consecutive of any one he had ever met with."
"But, my dear little girl, Crayshaw would not have known that unless you had told him; do you think that was the right thing to do by a guest?"
Gladys blushed. "But, father," said Barbara, "I suppose Cray may come now; Conyngham goes to-morrow. Cray never feels so well as when he is here."
"I had no intention of inviting him this Christmas," answered John.
"Well," said Gladys, "it doesn't make much difference; he and Johnnie can be together just the same nearly all day, because his brother and Mrs. Crayshaw are going to stay with the Brandons, and Cray is to come too."
John felt as if the fates were against him.
"And his brother was so horribly vexed when he found that he hardly got on at school at all."