"Yes," said Mr. Harland with gentle sarcasm, as his eyes, wandering round the table, rested on the other six; "I should say you were the only son."
Two days passed. There were still no signs of the latest "shipment." On previous occasions the Masters Bindon had appeared at Mulberry House within a few hours of the receipt of the "advice."
"I hope," suggested the principal to his wife when, on the evening of the second day, there was still no news, "that this is not another case of 'going on the burst.'"
On the afternoon of the following day Mrs. Harland was working in her own apartment, when the servant came rushing in. There was in the maid's bearing a suggestion of suppressed excitement.
"If you please, ma'am, there are a lot of little girls downstairs."
"A lot of little girls! What do they want?"
"If you please, ma'am, I don't know. I think they're foreigners. They say they've come to school."
The servant giggled. Mrs. Harland rose.
"Come to school! There must be some mistake. Where are they?"
"They're in the hall. And if you please, ma'am, there are three flies full of luggage."