"Oh, the sort of boy that lures the birds from the hedges, with those dark grey eyes of yours and the curly black lashes. Oh, I say, you are a wonder. You'll catch the girls by handfuls!"
"Don't know, and don't care!" said Denis. "I hate girls—that is, except Maureen and Kitty!"
"Well, I never! You are a nice sort of lad," said Daisy. "I've thought of a plan, though. You don't know where she has put the key?"
"No, I don't," said the boy sturdily; "and if I did I wouldn't tell."
"Well, get away as fast as you can, with that little brat of a sister of yours."
The two children only too eagerly left the room.
"Henny," said Daisy, the minute they were alone, "are you going to stand this sort of thing?"
"I don't see how we are going to do anything else. It is most detestable," said Henrietta. "But if the piano is locked, we can't do anything with it, can we?"
"I have my thoughts, and they are very fine ones," said Daisy. "Will you listen to me, Henrietta?"
"Oh, I'm sick of everything," said Henrietta, and she put her arms down on the lovely instrument and began to cry loudly and bitterly.