There was something so uncompromising, both in her tone, and the gesture which she made, as though to sweep them from her presence, that both the children felt that further remonstrance would be vain. So, with a very ill grace, they retreated.
“Hullo, Gaston!” shouted Jack, catching sight of Gaston, running across the top of the field, “come here, old chap.”
Gaston came immediately; the schoolboys always commanded his attention.
“Look here, are you coming with us to see the Fair to-day?”
“I—I don’t know,” said Gaston, falteringly.
“Oh, yes, come along,” said Phoena, encouragingly, “it’ll be great fun.”
“Is Andrew going?” asked Gaston, very gravely.
“No, Andrew’s not going,” said the latter, mimicking Gaston’s tone.
“Then I come, then I come,” cried Gaston, capering into the air, and beating both heels together, a gymnastic peculiar to himself.
“Flattering for you, Andrew,” remarked Di.