“Is it hard?” said Randolph, still directing his question to the boy.
Nello gave a glance out of the corner of his eyes at his questioner, but said nothing, only learned harder than ever; and again it became needful, for the sake of courtesy, that Lilias should answer.
“The Latin is not hard,” she said; “oh, not near so hard as the English. It is so easy to say; but Mr. Pen does not know how it goes; he says it all wrong; he says it like English. I hope Nello will not learn it that way.”
Randolph stared at her, but took no further notice. “Can’t you speak?” he said to Nello, “when I ask you a question? Stop your lesson and listen to me. Shouldn’t you like to go to school?”
Nello looked up with round and astonished eyes, and equally roundly, with all the force of the monosyllable, said “No,” as probably he would have answered to any question.
“No? but you don’t know what school is; not lessons only, but a number of fellows to play with, and all kinds of games. You would like it a great deal better than being here, and learning with Mr. Pennithorne.”
“No,” said Nello again; but his tone was less sure, and he paused to look into his questioner’s face. “Would Lily come too?” he said, suddenly accepting the idea. For from No to Yes is not a very long way at eight years old.
“Why, you don’t want to drag a girl with you,” said Randolph, laughing; “a girl who can’t play at anything, wherever you go?”
This argument secured Nello’s attention. He said, “N—no,” reddening a little, and with a glance at Lilias, against whose sway he dared scarcely rebel all at once; but the sense of superiority even at such an early age is sweet.
“He must not go without me,” cried Lilias, roused. “I am to take care of him always! Papa said so. Oh, don’t listen, Nello, to this—gentleman! You know what I told you—papa is perhaps coming home. Mr. Geoff said—Mr. Geoff knows something that will make everything right again. Mr. Geoff is going to fetch papa—— ”