On Monday evening, whilst Jimmy was sitting at the desk in the school-room sticking some postage-stamps in his Album, he was told to go to the drawing-room, where he found Miss Rosina sitting beside a large fire.
'Is your name Wilmot?' she asked, for she had not learnt all the boys' names yet.
'James Orchardson Sinclair Wilmot,' he answered.
'A long name for such a small boy,' said Miss Rosina. 'It is very strange,' she continued, 'that all the boys' parents have answered my letters but yours.'
'Mine couldn't answer,' said Jimmy.
'Why not?' asked Miss Rosina.
'Because they live such a long way off.'
'I remember,' said Miss Rosina; 'it was to your uncle that I wrote. I asked him to send someone to meet you at Victoria Station at one o'clock to-morrow. But he has not answered my letter, and it is very inconvenient.'
'Is it?' asked Jimmy solemnly, with his eyes fixed on her face.
'Why, of course it is,' said Miss Rosina. 'Suppose I don't have a letter before you start to-morrow morning! I shall not know whether any one is coming to meet you or not. And what would Miss Roberts do with you in that case?'