"Nothing of the kind," interrupted Maurice. "Cecil, will you give me a cup of coffee? Old Danvers scolds everyone about their classics," he continued. "He is the best loved and most feared master in the whole of our school. He is a splendid chap; but Homer is his red rag; he worships Homer to such an extent that it is like touching a raw spot if, in translating the old Greek hero, you make the slightest mistake. Danvers is a wonderful linguist. By the way, do you know Irish, Kate?"
"A little," replied Kate.
"Well, you talk to him about the Celts, if ever you have an opportunity; just open out to him on the subjects you do know a lot about. He'll forget that you are a girl in less than three minutes, and then he'll become perfectly delightful. Cecil, what in the world are you frowning about?"
"I am fretting about my letter," said Cecil. "I can't imagine where it has got to. Did you happen to see it, Matilda?"
"I saw you carrying up a lot of letters last night," said Matilda.
"Oh, yes, to be sure, and you were just behind me. I didn't drop a letter by any chance, did I?"
"Not that I know of," replied Matilda calmly.
"Well, you certainly would have seen it if I had."
"I probably should. Will you pass me the toast, Molly; and the marmalade, Jimmy? You might have dropped it without my seeing it, of course, Cecil. If I had seen it, I'd have naturally given it back to you."
"Yes, of course you would. Well, I must have a good search for it."