"Perhaps you had better give that letter to your aunt, Melicent, and let her judge whether it is a fit one for you to receive."
Melicent removed her look of surprise from one end of the table to another.
"I think it would be playing it very low down on Bert to let anybody see his letter," she said, with decision.
"My girls show me all their letters," said her aunt, still smiling and coaxing.
"I beg your pardon if it sounds rude," replied her niece, "but I shall not show you mine."
The vicar rose from table with decision.
"We will discuss this at another time," he said. "Melicent will, of course, conform to the rules of the house while she is with us. For what we have received, etc. A word, Miss Lathom, please." Then, as the girls filed past, he said low in the governess's ear: "On no account is she to be left alone with her cousins for a moment."
The girls filed soberly out, led the way upstairs, through a swing-door, along a passage, into a shabby old room with deep window-seats, an aged rocking-horse, shelves of story books and disabled toys, an ink-stained, battered table, a high fire-guard, and all the usual accessories of the nursery turned schoolroom.
They fastened the swing-door behind them as they went through, carefully closing the door of the school-room also; and then all, as it were, exhaling a gasp of relief, turned to their cousin again with transfigured faces.
"Now we can talk! Now we can be ourselves! Now we can have some fun!" they cried, surrounding her.