"Oh, yes, of course! Was Edward's father there?" "No, not his father. His mother and sister came. I don't think they'd meant to come, only they wanted to see you." I laughed. "I remember, Roland told me they wanted to see me. I am sure I don't know why. Is Edward's sister like Edward--very tall and straight and rather formal?" "Oh, no! She's not a bit like Edward. She's not like anybody else that ever I knew. She's quite little and very clever. I dare say you'd like her awfully." I laughed again. "You are funny, Victor. You're quite undoing my ideas of Edward's sister. Does she wear long-bodied blouses, with very high necks--at the back, anyhow--bought ready made from the drapers that advertise in the daily papers?" He looked puzzled. I went on: "Does she wear a wrist watch and keep on jerking her arm up at an angle to see the time by it? Does she have little bits of tulle bows tied under her ears and little frills and odds and ends of ribbon wherever they can be put, and a very ornamental waist-belt, and a general look as if her highest idea of good style were to sit in the dress circle of a theatre at a matinée?" Poor Victor! It was no wonder that he looked at me in more and more perplexity. Yet he did grasp something of what I meant, for he answered gravely: "I don't think she's that sort, a bit. She had a very pretty dress on on Speech Day, and I think it was quite a Frenchy sort--the kind of thing that Roland likes. And she doesn't wear bits of tulle and frills. She's quite plain about the neck." "Then she must be good-looking!" I exclaimed. And I added to myself: "She must be a girl of fascination--a girl to be reckoned with!--and not a mere stick to hang drapers' advertised wares upon." The next day The Bystander slipped close to my side in the garden and said: "Mother, I've found out what book it is that Roland has sent to Edward's sister. You see, the people in the shop where he got it asked me just now if I thought he wanted to pay for it separately or if they should put it down on the account. It's 'The Story of an African Farm.'" I had a feeling as if something were clutching at my heart. I said a few words in answer and then I went to the back drive and walked up and down there by myself. I was glad Little Yeogh Wough was out. I wanted to be apart from him and to think.