"A ladies' boarding-school at Brighton!" Mrs. Asplin spoke rapidly, so as to be beforehand with her husband, and her eyes danced with mischievous enjoyment as she saw the dismay depicted on the three watching faces. A ladies' school! Maxwell, Oswald, and Robert had a vision of a pampered pet in curls, and round jacket, and their backs stiffened in horrified indignation at the idea that grown men of seventeen and eighteen should be expected to associate with a "kid" from a ladies' school!
The Vicar could not restrain a smile, but he hastened to correct the mistake. "It's not a 'fellow' at all, this time. It's a girl! We have had a letter from Arthur Saville's mother asking us to look after her daughter while she is in India. She will come to us very soon and stay, I suppose, for three or four years, sharing your lessons, my dears, and studying with you——"
"A girl! Good gracious! Where will she sleep?" cried Mellicent, with characteristic, matter-of-fact curiosity, while Esther chimed in with further eager inquiries.
"What is her name? How old is she? What is she like? When will she come? Why is she leaving school?"
"Not very happy. Peggy. In the little box room over the study. About fifteen, I believe. Haven't the least idea. In a few weeks from now," said Mrs. Asplin, answering all the questions at once in her impulsive fashion, while she walked round the table, stroked Maxwell's dark curls, bent an interested glance at Robert's collection, and laid a hand on Esther's back to straighten bowed shoulders. "She is Arthur's sister, so she is sure to be nice, and both her parents will be in India, so you must all be kind to the poor little soul, and give her a hearty welcome."
Silence! Nobody had a word to say in response to this remark, but the eyes of the young people met furtively across the table, and Mr. Asplin felt that they were only waiting until their seniors should withdraw, before bursting into eager conversation.
"Better leave them to have it out by themselves," he whispered significantly to his wife, then added aloud, "Well, we won't interrupt you any longer. Don't turn the play-hour into work, Rob! You will study all the better for a little relaxation. You have proved the truth of that axiom, Oswald—eh?" and he went laughing out of the room, while Oswald held the door open for his wife, smiling assent in his lazy fashion.
"Another girl!" he exclaimed, as he reseated himself on his chair, and looked with satisfaction at his well-shod feet. "This is an unexpected blow! A sister of the redoubtable Saville! From all I have heard of him I should imagine a female edition would be rather a terror in a quiet household. I never saw Saville; what sort of a fellow was he to look at, don't you know?"
Millicent reflected.
"He had a nose," she said solemnly. Then, as the others burst into hilarious laughter, "Oh, it's no use shrieking at me; I mean what I say," she insisted. "A big nose—like Wellington's. When people are very clever they always have big noses. I imagine Peggy small, with a little, thin face, because she was born in India, and lived there until she was six years old, and a great big nose in the middle."