The twins were playing in the school grounds when they reached the house, and Faith paced up and down the drawing-room in a fever of impatience while they were fetched. The head mistress was talking to Forrester. She was sure the children were quite happy, she said. They were certainly very good. "They were always good at home," Faith said, passionately, forgetting how many times a day they had quarrelled and slapped one another, and screamed and cried and nearly worried poor Mrs. Ledley to death. But time had lent a glamour of glory to most things now, and Faith could never think of her life at home without a dreary feeling of heart-sickness.
And then the twins came, and she caught her breath with a cry of wonderment, for she hardly recognized them in the healthy, well-dressed children who came demurely forward, hand in hand.
"Darlings—oh, darlings!" said Faith.
She went down on her knees and put her arms round them, kissing them rapturously.
"You haven't forgotten me? Of course, you haven't forgotten me?"
The twins returned her kisses warmly enough, and then held away a little to ask: "Have you brought us any chocolates?"
Faith's face fell. She had forgotten the chocolates! Oh, how could she have been so selfish?
"I've got some," said Forrester cheerfully, and the twins deserted their sister to fall upon him with rapture.
Afterwards they went round the garden and were introduced to the other children and shown the schoolroom. Then they all had tea together in the drawing-room and then ... Forrester looked at his watch.