“It seems more like a way out of the other girl’s difficulties than yours,” remarked Mr. Weston, much puzzled. “Did you mention to her that you had a little brother of your own? Or perhaps you offered Billy in exchange?”
Billy, who had been sitting in a corner of the big sofa in unwonted silence, snorted indignantly.
“No, we didn’t. But we took hers.”
“My dear girls, what do you mean?” asked Mrs. Weston.
“Why, I thought we’d made it quite clear,” said Jean, rather aggrieved. “You see, they want to get rid of her little brother——”
“That sounds as if he were pretty beastly, but he’s not,” said Jo. “Only they’re all going away to Colombo, and——”
“And he can’t go, ’cause of the climate, and——”
“My beloved daughters,” remarked Mr. Weston, “if you would only speak one at a time, and say what you really do mean, we’d know more about it. You first, Jo—you’re the eldest.”
“Well, but we told you, didn’t we? They’re going to Colombo, and they can’t take him, ’cause he’s only nine, and not very strong. And they were wondering what on earth to do with him—they didn’t want to send him to school. They were at their wits’ end. And then they thought of us. And we’ve made an arrangement—that is, if you approve, only you simply can’t disapprove, or it’ll put them in the most frightful fix—that we’re to take him, and look after him and teach him with Billy, for——You tell them, Jean.”
“For £150 a year!” said Jean solemnly.