He had his elbow on the chimney-piece, his hand hung loosely open, and his eyes were fixed upon the leaping flames. When Judith spoke he looked up inquiringly.
"Miss Nash—Emmeline Nash," said Judith.
Percival happened to be looking at the fire too, and he suddenly saw Bertie's fingers drawn quickly up. But the young master spoke very composedly indeed: "Emmeline Nash—why? Has anything happened?"
"No: only Mr. Nash has given in at last, and says she may go home at Easter for good.—She is older than any of the other pupils, Mr. Thorne: in fact, she is not treated as a pupil. But her father is—"
"An old fossil," said Bertie.
"Well!—interested in fossils and that sort of thing, and a widower; so there has not been much of a home for her, and he always fancied she was better at school. But school can't last for ever."
"Happiest time of one's life!" Bertie ejaculated.
"Oh! do you think so?" said Judith doubtfully.
"Not at all. But I believe it is the right thing to say."
"Stupid boy!—And as she will very soon be twenty, I really think she ought not to be kept there any longer."