“When isn’t there?” asked Jack.
“Well, but,” persisted the eager speaker, “what Phoena read out of the book last night was all very well, but as far as we are concerned there’s no sense in it in these days. I mean as regards keeping the vows, we can only do the dull part, such as speaking the truth and being kind to each other, and all that sort of thing.”
“Hear, hear,” broke in the boys.
“But as to the other part,” went on Di, encouraged by their applause, “which really was the only nice part, what chance have we of pursuing infidels, and riding abroad to maintain the right and of breaking lances over wicked people’s heads?”
“Oh! but Di,” cried Phoena, “you mustn’t talk like that. Proper knights didn’t break their lances over people’s heads as if they were only old women’s broomsticks.”
“Oh! all right then, stuck them into people’s hearts,” retorted Di, with a delightful independence as to the accuracy of her language, “so any way, I’m going to propose something much simpler. Let’s all agree that the boys are to do one brave thing every day and we girls one kind thing. And whoever fails to fulfil this, must be summoned before the whole lot of us and—”
“Be sat upon as we shall judge fit,” concluded Jack.
“Capital, capital!” resounded from all sides.
Only Faith dissented. Did she not know the fearful squabbling which under the proposed conditions would most surely mar the close of each day. “I don’t want to preach—” she began.
“Then don’t,” said Di, promptly.