Outside the room he caught Avice by the arm.
“Kick off your shoes,” he said. “We'll sneak up to her room.”
They crept up silently. The door of Cecilia's room was ajar. Peeping in, they saw her standing before her tiny looking-glass, pinning on her hat. A small parcel lay upon her bed, with her gloves and parasol. The children were very silent—but something struck upon the girl's tightly strung nerves. She turned swiftly and saw them.
“What are you doing?” she demanded. “How dare you come into my room?”
“Why, we thought you were lost,” said Avice. “We finished our French ages ago. Where are you going?”
“I am going out,” said Cecilia. “I'll set you more work to do while I'm away.”
“But where are you going?”
“That has nothing to do with you. Come down to the schoolroom.”
Avice held her brother firmly by the arm. Together they blocked the way.
“Mater wouldn't let you go out in lesson time. I believe you're going to run away!”