“Yes—I’ll come.”
The Captain darted a triumphant glance in the direction of the tutor. But the tutor was investigating the contents of a game pie in the endeavour to discover a piece of egg for Miss Jill.
After a pause that young lady took up her discourse.
“If father and Roger go to town, Tom, we shall have dear Mr Armstrong all to ourselves.”
“Hooroo!” said Tom; “that is, if it’s holidays.”
“I am thinking of going to Oxford next week,” said the tutor, elaborately folding up his napkin, addressing his co-trustee. “Have you any message I can give to any of your acquaintances there?”
“I think it would be a pity for you to leave Maxfield just now. One of us should remain.”
“Yes, do stay. We’ll have such larks,” said Tom. “We’ll get Rosalind to come and stay, and then we shall be able to play regular matches, ladies against gentlemen, you know.”
“No. Mr Armstrong and I will stand Rosalind and you,” suggested Jill.
Even these allurements failed.