an never appreciate. She inherits it from me, and I fully sympathize
with her funny little pretendings."

"Yes, when pretendings don't take the place of real life. Sylvia has
been such a solitary child, so accustomed to play by herself and make
her own amusements, that she has almost lost the desire for young
companions."

"I thought she had plenty of friends. Didn't I meet some of them going
away yesterday as I returned home?"

"Yes, but she doesn't enjoy having them here. I should be sorry,
Gordon, to believe our darling was selfish."

"That she most certainly is not!" declared Mr. Lindsay emphatically.

"Not with us, but I'm afraid she doesn't like her small plans
disturbed by other children. She's not very ready to give up her own
way; indeed I was obliged to scold her yesterday for reading a book
instead of entertaining her visitors."

"She gets absorbed in her books."

"Too much so. She needs to be made to run about more. She's such a
gentle little mouse, she always prefers quiet games to a romp. It's
not healthy for a child to live continually with only grown-up people.
We've thought so earnestly about her education, and she has been
taught so carefully and well, that I really believe we've given her a
kind of mental indigestion!"

Mr. Lindsay laughed.

"She's very bright for her age," he said. "She can talk about botany
and antiquities as well or better than many an older person. I'd
rather have Sylvia for a companion than half the people I know."

"But she mustn't turn out a prig, and I fear she's in sad danger of
doing so if we don't take matters in hand at once. Intellectual
interests are delightful, and we want her to have them, but they
hardly supply the place of tennis and rounders at eleven years of age.
She's far too thin and pale and fragile looking. Louisa says we have
been developing her mind at the expense of her body."

Mr. Lindsay groaned and wrinkled up his forehead into lines and
puckers.

"What does Louisa propose that we should do then?" he enquired. "I've
no doubt she has some plan to suggest."

"She thinks Sylvia ought to be sent away to school."

"Then there is plenty of time to talk it over before Christmas."

"Not at Christmas. At once. The September term has only just begun,
and it's not at all too late."

"Whew! But what about Miss Holt? We couldn't pack her off at a
moment's notice."

"Her brother's wife died during the summer holidays, and she would be
only too d