"Right," said Merle, unusually cheerful. "I'd like that!"
"There's something unexpected about you; but give me guests who are willing to entertain themselves," said Mr. Lester, laughing. "We had a man out from Scotland once who turned down all our schemes for his amusement. But he never gave us any trouble; whenever we missed him he was sure to be down in the pig paddock looking at my Berkshires! Queer taste, but it kept him happy."
"When you begin to tell calumnious stories about my nation, it's time we went, isn't it, mother?" said Neil Fraser. "Pigs, indeed! Are you sure your Scot wasn't an Irishman, Lester?"
"He was not—and I never saw an Irishman who would look at a pig when a horse was about," Mr. Lester remarked. "Not that I think there was any love of my pigs, as pigs, on M'Glashan's part; he was a confirmed mathematician, and he was merely calculating the amount of bacon those Berkshires would cut into! Must you really go?"
"I must—apart from the painful nature of your conversation," Fraser said, laughing. "I'm taking this young mother of mine to the theatre to-night, and she must have a rest first."
They said good-bye, and disappeared through the long window. Teddy Raine rose.
"Come on, you fellows," he said. "I must take 'em back, Mrs. Lester, or poor old Melville'll be throwing fits. Cricket practice has slumped since you people came here." He patted Dick's head, his merry face gentle. "Going to have a mighty supper in the dormer to-night, old thing!" he said. "Wish you were going to be there."
"I wish I was!" said Dick ruefully. "Never mind, there'll be lots next term!"
"And we'll drink more power to your old back," said Teddy, "in raspberry vinegar!"
"Out of a soap-dish lid?" queried Mrs. Lester demurely.