“Such a delightful accent,” said Miss Jean.
“Like linked sweetness long drawn out,” quoted Miss Amelia.
“But—” hesitated Miss Jean.
“Still—” more hesitatingly said her sister, and then there was a long pause.
“Oh, to the mischief!” said Mr. Dyce to himself, then took off his hat again, said, “Good-afternoon,” and turned to his door.
He was met by Ailie in the lobby; she had seen him from a window speaking to the Duffs. “What were they saying to you?” she asked, with more curiosity in her manner than was customary.
“Nothing at all,” said Mr. Dyce. “They just stood and cooed. I'm not sure that a doo-cot is the best place to bring up an eagle in. How did Bud get on with them at school to-day?”
“So far as I can make out, she did not get on at all; she seems to have demoralized the school, and driven the Misses Duff into hysterics, and she left of her own accord and came home an hour before closing-time. And—and she's not going back!”
Mr. Dyce stood a moment in amazement, then rubbed his hands gleefully. “I'm glad to hear it,” said he. “The poor birdies between them could not summon up courage to tell me what was wrong. I'm sorry for them; if she's not going back, we'll send them down a present.”