got more sense than I thought for, if they
gives 'em a trade as well.' And Miss Mary she said again, he'd gone to
a shop right enough, and went off laughing."

"But that's impossible," said Eloquent. "He must have gone either to
Sandhurst or Woolwich; there's nowhere else he could go."

"She never mentioned neither of those names. 'Shop,' she said . . .
you needn't look at me like that, Eloquent . . . I'm positive."

"You were telling me how many children there were," Eloquent remarked
pacifically, "Grantly, the eldest son, and then . . . ?"

"I'm getting warm," his mind kept saying.

"Then Miss Mary, just a year younger, very like her mother she is . . .
in looks, but she hasn't got the gumption of Mrs Ffolliot. That'll
come, perhaps . . . later. A bit of a tomboy she's bin, but she's
settling down."

"I suppose she is nearly grown up?"

"Between seventeen and eighteen, she'll be, but not done up her hair
yet--that's Mr Ffolliot's doin's; he's full of fads as an egg's full o'
meat. Then there's the twins, Uz and Buz they calls 'em. They're at
Rugby School, they are, but they'll be home for the holidays almost
directly. I can't say I'm partial to scripture names myself, and only
last time he was here I asked Mr Grantly what they called them that
for, when there was so many prettier names in our language, and he
said, quite solemn like, 'Uz his first-born and Buz his brother, that's
why, you see.' And I said, 'but they're twins, sir'; and he said, 'but
Uz was born five minutes before Buz, so it's quite correct,' and went
off laughing. They're always laughing at something, those children."

"Then are there just the four?' asked Eloquent, who knew perfectly well
there were more.

"Oh, bless you, no; there's Master Ger; now I call him the pick of the
bunch, the most conformable little chap and full of sense: he'll talk
to you like one of yourselves; he's everybody's friend, is Master Ger.
Miss Kitten's the youngest, and a nice handful she is. She and Master
Ger does everything together, and they do say as she's the only one as
don't care two pins for her papa; nothing cows her, she'd sauce the
king himself if she got the chance."

"From what you say, I gather that they seem to do pretty much as they
like," Eloquent remarked primly.

"Outside they do, but in the house they say those poor children's
hushed up something dreadful. Mr Ffolliot's a regular old Betty, he
never ought to have had one child,