'Do thoo like pigs?' asked a smaller girl, round and rosy, in a holland pinafore, putting the question as if it were relevant to her sister's inquiry.
'I don't quite know,' said Ida doubtfully.
''Cos there are nine black oneths, tho pwutty. Will thoo come and thee them?'
Ida said she would think about it: and then she received various pressing invitations to go and see lop-eared rabbits, guinea-pigs, a tame water-rat in the rushes of the duck-pond, a collection of eggs in the schoolroom, and the new lawn-tennis ground which father had made in the paddock.
'Now all you small children run away!' cried Bessie, loftily. 'Ida and I are going to dress for dinner.'
The crowd dispersed reluctantly, with low mutterings about rabbits, pigs, and water-rats, like the murmurs of a stage mob; and then Bessie led her friend into a large sunny room fronting westward, a room with three windows, cushioned window-seats, two pretty white-curtained beds, and a good deal of old-fashioned and heterogeneous furniture, half English, half Indian.
'You said you wouldn't mind sleeping in my room,' said Bessie, as she showed her friend an exclusive dressing-table, daintily draperied, and enlivened with blue satin bows, for the refreshment of the visitor's eye.
While the girls were contemplating this work of art the door was suddenly opened and Blanche's head was thrust in.
'I did the dressing-table, Miss Palliser, every bit, on purpose for you.'
And the door then slammed to, and Bessie rushed across the room and drew the bolt.