“He’d very likely try to get out of the window if you did, cousin Hortensia,” said Mavis with her gentle little laugh. She was feeling happy, for Ruby had continued kind and gentle this morning. “And if I were a boy I’m not sure but that I would too, if I were shut up.”
“Well, let us get to our work,” said Miss Hortensia with a resigned little sigh.
Lessons were over; Ruby and Mavis had had their usual morning run along the terrace, had brushed their hair and washed their hands, and were standing up while Miss Hortensia said grace before beginning dinner, when Bertrand appeared.
He came banging in, his cap on his head, his boots wet and dirty, his cheeks flushed, and his eyes bright with running and excitement. He looked very pretty notwithstanding the untidy state he was in, but it was impossible to welcome him cordially; he was so rude and careless, leaving the door wide open, and bringing in a strong fishy smell, the reason of which was explained when he flung down a great mass of coarse slimy seaweed he had been carrying.
“You nasty, dirty boy,” said Ruby, turning up her nose and sniffing.
“Really, Bertrand, my dear,” began Miss Hortensia, “what have you brought that wet seaweed here for? It cannot stay in this room.”
“I’ll take it away,” said Mavis, jumping up.
“What harm does it do?” said Bertrand, sitting down sideways on his chair. “I want it. I say you’re not to go pitching it away, Mavis. Well when am I to have something to eat?”
“Go and wash your hands and hang up your coat and come and sit straight at the table and then I will give you your dinner,” said Miss Hortensia drily.
“Why can’t you give it me now?” said Bertrand, with the ugly scowl on his face.