“Dear Mrs. Forester,—
“Helen says you want a home for Rex, and she thinks you would let him come to us. We think it is perfectly awful to take money for having him, which we would love to do without any money at all, but Helen says it must not be. So, as Father is having hard times with the drought and other things, and we must leave school and teach Billy, what would you think about trusting Rex to us? Mother and Father would act as parents to him, we are sure, and we would try to make him happy.” (“I like the division of duties!” murmured Mrs. Forester.) “We do not know if we are any good at teaching, but we are up to Junior Public work, and we are going to teach Billy, so he and Rex could have lessons together. We would do our best, and each of us could teach the subjects she was best at; as, for instance, I cannot do French at all, while Jean is a whale at it, and she hates mathematics, which I love. We can both teach him riding, swimming, and gym. work, and see that he baths himself thoroughly, and cleans his teeth. Mother and Father do not know anything about our proposal, and we know they will hate taking money, so we thought we would fix it up without them, if you approve, which Helen says she thinks you will. We would give him the best time we could, if you let us have him, and take tremendous care of him, and Billy would love a mate. Wishing you a happy Christmas, we are,
“Yours sincerely,
Jean and Jo Weston.”
(Jo had said she didn’t think Christmas wishes were correct in a letter that was strictly business. But Jean had contended that civility always paid, and that kind wishes were only civil. She had carried her point, after heated discussion.)
“They sound a most cheerful pair,” Mrs. Forester said, folding up the letter and putting it carefully away in her hand-bag. “I haven’t seen them for years.”
“Oh, they’re priceless!” said her daughter. “Thank goodness they didn’t leave during my time—but I’m sorry for Ellen. They’re so cheery, and absolutely straight; the sort of people who are a good influence in the school, without having the least idea of it. You’ll let Rex go, won’t you, Mother?”
“I must consult your father first. But so far as I am concerned, I think it is a splendid opportunity. To get him with people we know—and especially people like the Westons—well, it’s just a wonderful chance. Even if he learned nothing at all, I should go away happily if I could leave him with the Westons. I’ll see Father to-night, and talk it over with him. Now I wonder how much those stiff-necked people will let us pay for him?”
“They will try to make it about sixpence a week, unless you’re firm,” said Helen.
“Yes. And boarding-school, with holiday expenses as well, would cost about £150, and it wouldn’t be a quarter as satisfactory. Well, I must try to clinch a bargain with the girls before they see their parents, and bind them down to take a decent sum. Poor John Weston! I’m very sorry he’s so hard-hit. It’s hard on the girls, too. You say they told all the school?”