The other boys were strangers. One had red hair, and the other was dark. He looked like a foreigner; his hair fell straight in two lines down his forehead and almost met his eyebrows. He was sparely built, and very tall, and had great big hands. Alex glanced back at him. "I wanted to take these fellows over the house," he said. "This is Von Marlo"--here he introduced the taller boy--"and this is Squibs. You must have heard me talk of Squibs. Now, don't stand in the way; let us come in. Von Marlo is Dutch, and very proud of his country--aren't you, Von Marlo?" Von Marlo smiled, and bowed to me. "Now get out of the way, Dumps," said Alex. "And what have you put on your best frock for, and why are you all prunes and prisms? What is the matter?" "Only that father is at home. He is lying down; he has a shocking headache. You really mustn't make a noise.--You must go away, please, Mr Von Marlo and Mr Squibs." "Oh, how jokingly funny!" exclaimed Alex, and he burst into a loud laugh and sank down on the bench in the hall. But the Dutch boy, Von Marlo, came up to me and made another little bow, and took my hand as though he would kiss it; he raised it to within a few inches of his lips and then dropped it again. I was told afterwards that this was the Dutch way of showing reverence to a lady, and I was immensely touched by it. He said, "Certainly, Miss Grant, we will go away. I did not know when Grant asked me to come in that your father was ill." "But I say, the Professor was in his class holding forth not half-an-hour back," said Squibs, whose real name was Squire. "Well, he's lying down now, and there can be no noise," I said. I had scarcely uttered the words before up the steps came my own two special visitors, Rita and Agnes Swan. "Oh Jiminy!" cried Alex; and he stepped back as the two young ladies sailed in. "How do you do, Rachel?" said Rita. "How do you do, Rachel?" said Agnes. They were also dressed in their best, and were evidently highly pleased and intended to have a good time. They did not at all object to the fact that four rather tall, ungainly schoolboys were standing about in the hall. "You know my brothers, don't you, Rita?" I said, presenting Alex and Charley. "And this is Mr Von Marlo, and this is Mr Squire." Alex and Charley reddened up to the roots of their hair; Squibs looked as though he could not possibly get any redder--he was nearly always scarlet; but the Dutch boy, Von Marlo, bowed in the most graceful style, and then stood quite at his ease, glancing at the girls. "I say," said Alex, coming up to me and speaking in a very loud semi-whisper, "have they come to tea?" "Yes--yes. Do go away--please go away--and take the boys with you." "But are there cookies and good things for tea?" "Yes; but there really isn't enough for four extra people. Do go away, Alex. I'll have something nice for your supper by-and-by. Do! there's a good boy."