CHAPTER XI.
Mrs. Reding was by this time settled in the neighbourhood of old friends in Devonshire; and there Charles spent the winter and early spring with her and his three sisters, the eldest of whom was two years older than himself.
"Come, shut your dull books, Charles," said Caroline, the youngest, a girl of fourteen; "make way for the tea; I am sure you have read enough. You sometimes don't speak a word for an hour together; at least, you might tell us what you are reading about."
"My dear Carry, you would not be much the wiser if I did," answered Charles; "it is Greek history."
"Oh," said Caroline, "I know more than you think; I have read Goldsmith, and good part of Rollin, besides Pope's Homer."
"Capital!" said Charles; "well, I am reading about Pelopidas—who was he?"
"Pelopidas!" answered Caroline, "I ought to know. Oh, I recollect, he had an ivory shoulder."
"Well said, Carry; but I have not yet a distinct idea of him either. Was he a statue, or flesh and blood, with this shoulder of his?"
"Oh, he was alive; somebody ate him, I think."
"Well, was he a god or a man?" said Charles.