“That’s done it,” chuckled Rollo to himself.
“If they had been confederates they would have sworn they knew nothing about it,” said Dolores, with piercing conviction.
“Do you know any more tricks?” asked Mrs. Jallatt hurriedly.
Rollo did not. He hinted that he might have changed the three peaches into something else, but Agnes had already converted one into girl-food, so nothing more could be done in that direction.
“I know a game,” said the elder Wrotsley heavily, “where the fellows go out of the room, and think of some character in history; then they come back and act him, and the girls have to guess who it’s meant for.”
“I’m afraid I must be going,” said Rollo to his hostess.
“Your carriage won’t be here for another twenty minutes,” said Mrs. Jallatt.
“It’s such a fine evening I think I’ll walk and meet it.”
“It’s raining rather steadily at present. You’ve just time to play that historical game.”
“We haven’t heard Dolores recite,” said Rollo desperately; as soon as he had said it he realised his mistake. Confronted with the alternative of “Locksley Hall,” public opinion declared unanimously for the history game.