Hollyhock: A Spirit of Mischief

by L. T. Meade

'But will your sister scowl at me, the same as when you kissed hands to her just now?' asked Ivor.

'Oh no; but you must be very polite to her. You must try to coax her in your manly way to become a pupil at the school.'

'Well, I 'll do my best,' said Ivor Chetwode. 'She is certainly handsome, but she has a scowl that I don't like.'

'Well, try not to speak against her, Ivor. Remember she is my sister.'

'I am awfully sorry, Jasmine, and I do think you 're a ripping kind of girl.'

Hollyhock sat down to the midday meal at The Garden in exceedingly low spirits, but her father had now got through what she called his arithmetic, and was full of mirth. He ate heartily and laughed heartily, and said in his most cheery voice, 'Well, my pet Hollyhock, you and your Dumpy Dad must make the best of each other.'

'Oh Dumps, do you want me to stay with you?'

'Why not? What do you think?'

'Dumpy, I've had a miserable morning.'

'I 'm sorry for that, my little Flower; but it need not happen again. You ought not to be unhappy. You 'll have holidays always from now onwards.'