“Paddy, Paddy! you have got to come here at once,” called out Briar.
Meanwhile Verena took one of his arms, Patty clasped the other, Briar danced in front, and so they conducted him into the middle of the group.
“Here’s your stool, Paddy,” cried Briar. “Down you squat. Now then, squatty-vous.”
Mr. Dale took off his spectacles, wiped them and gazed around him in bewilderment.
“I was construing a line of Virgil,” he said. “You have interrupted me, my dears. Whatever is the matter?”
“We have brought the culprit to justice,” exclaimed Pauline. “Paddy, forget the classics for the time being. Think, just for a few moments, of your neglected—your shamefully neglected—daughters. Ten of them, Paddy, all running wild in the Forest glades. Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? Don’t you feel that your moment of punishment has come? Aunt Sophia arrives to-morrow. Now, what have you got to say for yourself?”
“But, my dear children, we can’t have your Aunt Sophia here. I could not dream of it. I remember quite well she came here once a long time ago. I have not got over it yet. I haven’t really.”
“But she is coming, Paddy, and you know it quite well, for you got the letter. How long do you think you can put up with her?”
“Only for a very short time, Pauline; I assure you, my darling, she is not—not a pleasant person.”
“Describe her, Paddy—do,” said Verena.