set off with her, and the other two ladies followed more slowly.
‘I thought it would not do,’ said Aunt Jane.
‘Lily’s children are so rough,’ added Aunt Adeline.
‘I am not so sure that the fault is theirs,’ was the reply. ‘She is a priggish little puss, who wants shaking up.’
‘Ah! here come the hordes,’ sighed Adeline, shrinking a little, as the entire population, summoned by Fergus, came pouring forth to meet the advancing mother.
‘How is this, Wilfred? Have you been shooting arrows at your cousin?’
‘Mama!’ cried Valetta, indignantly, ‘he did not shoot at her; he only pretended, and shot the old crocodile-bench. He never meant any more. It was only play.’
‘Have you not been forbidden to shoot in the direction of any person?’
‘Nor I didn’t!’ said Wilfred. ‘I only shot the crocodile. I never tried to hit her. She is quite big enough to miss.’
‘And she did look such a nice Croat, mamma,’ added Valetta. ‘We were scouts out of the Thorn Fortress, Willie and I, and it was such a jolly dodge to steal upon one of the enemy.’
‘You should have warned her.’
Then it would not have been a surprise,’ said Val, seriously.
‘Was she not at play with you?’
‘No, mamma,’ said Mysie. ‘We asked her, and she would not. I say,’ pausing in consternation, ‘Dolores, was it you that came and called at the door of the Wolf’s passage?’
‘Of course. I wanted to show Gillian how Wilfred behaved to me.’
I thought it was Fergus come home to be the enemy.’
‘Didn’t you know her voice?’ asked the mother
‘We were all making such a noise ourselves in the dark,’ said Gillian, ‘that there was no hearing any one; and Primrose was rather frightened, so that Hal was attending to her. Indeed, Dolores, I am very sorry. If we had guessed that it was you, we would have opened the door at once, and then you would have known that it was all fun and play, and not have troubled mamma about it.’
‘Wilfred and Valetta knew,’ said Dolores, rather sullenly.
‘Oh! but it was such fun,’ said Val.
‘It was fun that became unkindness on your part,’ said her mother. ‘You ought not to have kept it up without warning to her. And what do I hear about names? I hope that was also misunderstanding of the game. What did you call her?’
‘Only a Croat,’ said Valetta, indignantly, ‘and a Black Brunswicker.’
‘Was that it, Dolores?’
‘Perhaps,’ she muttered, disconcerted by a laugh from her Aunt Jane.
‘I do not know what you took them for,’ said Lady Merrifield, ‘but you see some part of this trouble arose from a mistake on you part. Now, Wilfred and Valetta, remember that is not right to force a person into play against her will. And as to the shooting near, but not at her, you both know perfectly well that it is forbidden. So give me your bow, Wilfred. I shall keep it for a week, that you may remember obedience.’
Wilfred looked sullen, but obeyed. Dolores could not call her aunt unjust, but as she look round, she met glances that made her think it prudent to shelter herself among the elders. Aunt Jane asked what the game was.
‘The Thorn Fortress,’ said Gillian. ‘It comes out of that delightful S.P.C.K. book so called, where, in the ‘Thirty Years’ War,’ all the people of a village took refuge from the soldiers in a field in the middle of a forest guarded by a tremendous hedge of thorns. Val had it for a birthday present, and the children have been acting it ever since.’
‘It has quite put out the Desert Island passion, which used to be a regular stage in these children’s lives. Every voyage we have taken, somebody has come to ask whether there was any hope of being wrecked on one.’
‘Fergus even asked when we crossed from Dublin,’ said Gillian.
‘He was put up to that, to keep up the tradition,’ observed Harry.
On reaching the house, the elders proceeded to five o’clock tea in the drawing-room, the juniors to gouter in the dining-room. As Dolores entered, she beheld a row of all her five younger cousins drawn up looking at her as if she had committed high treason, and she was instantly addressed—
‘Tell-take tit!’ began Valetta.
‘Sneak!’ cried Wilfred.
‘I will call her Croat!’ added Fergus.
‘Worse than Croat! Bashi Bazouk!’ exclaimed Valetta.
‘Worse than Crow!’ chimed in Primrose.
‘Oh, Dolores! How could you?’ said Mysie.
‘To get poor Willie punished!’ said Val.
Dolores stood her ground. ‘It was time to speak when it came to shooting arrows at me.’
‘Hush! hush! Willie,’ cried Mysie. ‘I told you so. Now Dolores, listen. Nobody ever tells of anybody when it is only being tiresome and they don’t mean it, or there never would be any peace at all. That’s honour! Do you see? One may go to Gill sometimes.’
‘One’s a sneak if one does,’ put in Wilfred; but Mysie, unheeding went on—
‘And Gill can help without a fuss or going to mamma.’
‘Mamma always knows,’ said Val.
‘Mamma knows all about everything,’ said Mysie. ‘I think it’s nature; ad if she does not always take notice at the time, she will have it out sooner or later.’ Then resuming the thread of her discourse: ‘So you see, Dolly, we have made up our minds that we will forgive you this time, because you are an only child and don’t know what’s what, and that’s some excuse. Only you mustn’t go on telling tales whenever an evident happens.’
Dolores thought it was she who ought to forgive, but the force against her was overpowering, though still she hesitated. ‘But if I promise not to tell,’ she said, ‘how do I know what may be done to me?’
‘You might trust us,’ cried Mysie, with flashing eyes.
‘And I can tell you,’ added Wilfred, ‘that if you do tell, it will be ever so much the worse for you—girl that you are.’
‘War to the knife! Cried Valetta, and everybody except Mysie joined in the outcry. ‘War to the knife with traitors in the camp.’
Mysie managed to produce a pause, and again acted orator. ‘You see, Dolores, if you did tell, it would not be possible for mamma or Gill to be always looking after you, and I couldn’t do you much good—and if all these three are set against you, and are horrid to you, and I couldn’t do you much good—horrid to you, you’ll have no peace in your life; and, after all, we only ask of you to give and take in a good-natured sort of way, and not to be always making a fuss about everything you don’t like. It is the only way, I assure you.’
Dolores saw the fates were against her, and said—
‘Very well.’
‘You promise?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then we forgive you, and here’s the box of chocolate things Aunt Ada brought. We’ll have a cigar all round and be friends. Smoke the pipe of peace.’
Dolores afterwards thought how grand it would have been to have replied, ‘Dolores Mohun will never be intimidated;’ but the fact was that her spirit did quail at the thought of the tortures which the two boys might inflict on her if Mysie abandoned her to their mercy, and she was relieved, as well as surprised to find that her offence was condoned, and she was treated as if nothing had happened.
Meantime Aunt Jane was asking in the drawing-room, ‘How do you get on?’
‘Fairly