As father spoke he bowed to the girls, marched the boys in front of him out of the room, and closed the door behind him. "Well, I never!" exclaimed Agnes. "To be sure, Dumps, you do have exciting times in this house!" "I am very glad you have enjoyed it," I said, and I sat down and pushed my hair away from my face. "How flushed your cheeks are! And where is the Knight of the Poached Egg? What a very funny boy he must be!" "But you two mustn't tell the story about him either," I said. "I mean, if you have any friends at the college, you mustn't relate it, for they might laugh, and he was really very chivalrous. Father thinks a lot of him; I can see that. And as to me, I think he is the most chivalrous boy I have ever come across in the whole course of my life." "Oh, that's because he said you were pretty. That's a foreigner's way of talking. Alex spoke about it when you had gone out of the room. He said of course his sister was good-looking; he would always stand up for his sister; but it was a foreigner's way." As Agnes spoke she raised her somewhat piquant little face and glanced at me, as much as to say, "Poor Dumps! you are very plain, but of course your own people must stand up for you." "Well, we can have some games now," I said, forcing myself to turn the conversation. But the girls were disinclined for games; they preferred to sit by the fire and talk, and ask me innumerable questions about the school, my brothers, and Mr Von Marlo, and if Mr Von Marlo would be allowed to come to see them on Sunday evenings, and if I would bring him, and all sorts of talk of that sort. I answered that I shouldn't be allowed to do anything of the sort, and that the only boy I knew in the school except my brothers was Squibs, and of course, now, Mr Von Marlo. "Well, well! we'll come and see you again if you like; and you must have tea with us, you know, Rachel. Come to see us the night after to-morrow, and we'll have some friends who will surprise you a bit. You do look very nice in that pale-blue dress. But good-bye now, for it is getting late." PART ONE, CHAPTER THREE. A WELCOME CALLER. Father looked mysterious during the next few days. I mean that he had begun a strange new habit. During meals he used to put down his knife and fork and stare hard at me. Now, until the affair of the poached egg he had hardly noticed me. He had an abstracted way about him, as though he did not see anybody. Sometimes he would address me as though I were one of the schoolboys, and would say, "Hurry up, Stumps, with your lessons;" or, "My dear Moore, you will never win that scholarship if you don't put your back into the thing." And then he would start violently and say, "Oh, it's only little Dumps, after all!"