ose children sporting about when by rights they ought to be in bed
I knew that Mrs. Geraghty had been sent for. Now you understand the sort
of thing you have to expect when we get home. I thought I'd just warn
you, so that you wouldn't be taken by surprise."

Frank felt that he still might be taken by surprise and urged Priscilla
to give him some further details about the catastrophe.

"We'll find out soon enough," said Priscilla. "At least we may. If it's
the kind of thing that's visible, streams of water running down the
front stairs or anything like that, we'll see for ourselves, but if
it happens to be a more inward sort of disaster which we can't see--and
that's the kind there's always the worst fuss about--then it may take us
some time to find out. Aunt Juliet doesn't think it's good for children
to know about inward disasters, and so she never talks of them when
I'm there except in what she calls French, and not much of that because
Father can't understand her. They may, of course, confide in you. It all
depends on whether they think you're a child or not."

"I'm not."

"_I_ know that, of course. And Aunt Juliet saw you in your evening coat
last night at dinner, so she oughtn't to. But you never can tell about
things of that kind. Look at the sponge lady for instance. She said you
were the nicest child she ever saw. Still they may tell you."

Frank did not like being reminded of Miss Rutherford's remark.
Priscilla's repetition of it goaded him to a reply which he immediately
afterwards felt to be unworthy.

"If they do tell me," he said, "I won't tell you."

"Then you'll be a mean, low beast," said Priscilla.

Frank pulled himself together with an effort. He realised that it would
never do to bandy schoolboy repartee with Priscilla. His loss of dignity
would be complete. And besides, he was very likely to get the worst
of the encounter. He was out of practise. Prefects do not descend to
personalities.

"My dear Priscilla," he said, "I only meant that I wouldn't tell you if
it was the sort of thing a girl oughtn't to hear."

"Like what Jimmy Kinsella has on Inishbawn," said Priscilla. "Do you
know, Cousin Frank, you're quite too funny for words when you go in for
being grand. Now would you like me to wheel you up to the hall-door
and ring the bell, or would you rather we sneaked round through the
shrubbery into the yard, and got in by the gunroom door and so up the
back stairs?"

"I don't care," said