ut of people," he
announced; "well, I'm going to take more interesting things out of some
of you. Mice, for instance."

"Not mice!"

A shrill protest rose, as he had foreseen, from the majority of his
audience.

"Well, fruit, them."

The amended proposal was received with approval. Agnes positively
beamed.

Without more ado Rollo made straight for his trio of enemies, plunged his
hand successively into their breast-pockets, and produced three peaches.
There was no applause, but no amount of hand-clapping would have given
the performer as much pleasure as the silence which greeted his coup.

"Of course, we were in the know," said the Wrotsley cousin lamely.

"That's done it," chuckled Rollo to himself.

"If they _had_ been confederates they would have sworn they knew nothing
about it," said Dolores, with piercing conviction.

"Do you know any more tricks?" asked Mrs. Jallatt hurriedly.

Rollo did not. He hinted that he might have changed the three peaches
into something else, but Agnes had already converted one into girl-food,
so nothing more could be done in that direction.

"I know a game," said the elder Wrotsley heavily, "where the fellows go
out of the room, and think of some character in history; then they come
back and act him, and the girls have to guess who it's meant for."

"I'm afraid I must be going," said Rollo to his hostess.

"Your carriage won't be here for another twenty minutes," said Mrs.
Jallatt.

"It's such a fine evening I think I'll walk and meet it."

"It's raining rather steadily at present. You've just time to play that
historical game."

"We haven't heard Dolores recite," said Rollo desperately; as soon as he
had said it he realised his mistake. Confronted with the alternative of
"Locksley Hall," public opinion declared unanimously for the history
game.

Rollo played his last card. In an undertone meant apparently for the
Wrotsley boy, but carefully pitched to reach Agnes, he observed--

"All right, old man; we'll go and finish those chocolates we left in the
library."

"I think it's only fair that the girls should take their turn in going
out," exclaimed Agnes briskly. She was great on fairness.

"Nonsense," said the others; "there are too many of us."

"Well, four of us can go. I'll be one of them."

And Agnes darted off towards the library, followed by three less eager
damsels.

Rollo sank into a chair and smiled ever so faintly at the Wrotsleys, just
a