here, I'm
not going through that dog-whip business again," protested Rollo.

"Certainly not, dear," said the elder Wrotsley; "we'll try the whalebone
switch this time, and you'll know which hurts most. It's only by
personal experience that one finds out these things."

It was swiftly borne in upon Rollo that his earlier selection of the
dog-whip had been a really sound one. The conclave gave his under-lip
time to steady itself while it debated the choice of the necessary word.
"Mustang" was no good, as half the girls wouldn't know what it meant;
finally "quagga" was pitched on.

"You must come and sit down over here," chorused the investigating
committee on their return; but Rollo was obdurate in insisting that the
questioned person always stood up. On the whole, it was a relief when
the game was ended and supper was announced.

Mrs. Jallatt did not stint her young guests, but the more expensive
delicacies of her supper-table were never unnecessarily duplicated, and
it was usually good policy to take what you wanted while it was still
there. On this occasion she had provided sixteen peaches to "go round"
among fourteen children; it was really not her fault that the two
Wrotsleys and their cousin, foreseeing the long foodless drive home, had
each quietly pocketed an extra peach, but it was distinctly trying for
Dolores and the fat and good-natured Agnes Blaik to be left with one
peach between them.

"I suppose we had better halve it," said Dolores sourly.

But Agnes was fat first and good-natured afterwards; those were her
guiding principles in life. She was profuse in her sympathy for Dolores,
but she hastily devoured the peach, explaining that it would spoil it to
divide it; the juice ran out so.

"Now what would you all like to do?" demanded Mrs. Jallatt by way of
diversion. "The professional conjurer whom I had engaged has failed me
at the last moment. Can any of you recite?"

There were symptoms of a general panic. Dolores was known to recite
"Locksley Hall" on the least provocation. There had been occasions when
her opening line, "Comrades, leave me here a little," had been taken as a
literal injunction by a large section of her hearers. There was a murmur
of relief when Rollo hastily declared that he could do a few conjuring
tricks. He had never done one in his life, but those two visits to the
library had goaded him to unusual recklessness.

"You've seen conjuring chaps take coins and cards o