"Except that my little sister couldn't and wouldn't and shouldn't go without me. We're practically twins, and we're no more use apart than the two blades of a pair of scissors. Oh yes, Mummie darling, we'll be patterns of virtue. Don't worry about us. We'll cheer up Aunt Nellie and amuse Uncle David, and wake the new school up too, I dare say. Don't look horrified, sweetest, I'm half joking. Mavis is such an angel-girl she needs me to drag her down a little or she'd just go floating off to heaven like a balloon, and never find her way back. I act earthly ballast for her, and keep her anchored to this world. She'd never remember her tonic if I didn't remind her. I'll keep an eye on her down in Devon, and see that she doesn't sit in draughts or get her feet damp. Trust her twin to look after her. Whenever she wants to do silly things I'll scold till I'm hoarse. You don't know how I can croak when I like!" "As if I were going to do silly things!" interrupted Mavis indignantly. "Really, to hear you talk, anybody'd think you were my grannie instead of fourteen months younger than I am! I hope this new school will be decent. We shall miss Janie and Edna." "But think of getting rid of Miss Donald for a whole term, and not having Miss Hanson to teach us algebra. Oh, what a jubilee! Our desks will be empty in IVA. Sounds quite pathetic, doesn't it? Sort of twin tombstone business." "They grew in beauty side by side; They filled one school with glee," laughed Mavis. "And now they're going to have some larks In Devon by the sea!" finished Merle. "Durracombe--Durracombe--Durracombe," repeated Mavis. "Yes, I like the name. It grips me somehow. I feel I can be happy at Durracombe. I shouldn't want to go to a place called Porkville or Mudbury. There's a great deal in a name. Mumsie, dear, I wish we were starting to-morrow. I can't wait. I want to see Durracombe at once." "You silly child! And I, who have all your clothes to get ready, am thankful to have at least a week to turn round in. I don't say I'm not looking forward to seeing Devon again, though. We shall be ever such a jolly trio when we set off in the train, shan't we?" "And where do I come in?" asked a mock-lugubrious voice, as Dr. Ramsay joined the party. "My family appear very anxious to run away from me. It seems to me I'm to be left out in the cold. Poor Papa! Sitting alone by his desolate hearth with only the cat for company. My heart bleeds for him!"