And if there happened to be anything he particularly wanted, much the same proceeding ensued. “I’m afraid we mustn’t let him have it sister!” Miss Mary would say wistfully. “We mustn’t spoil him, must we?” “No, sister, we mustn’t spoil him,” would be the reply with like wistfulness. “Or, do you think, perhaps, just this once, sister?” half timidly. “Well, perhaps, just this once,” with a show of reluctance, “only it mustn’t happen again, must it?” “No, certainly not, sister, another time we will be firm for his good.” And so it went on for twenty-four years, and always “another time” was reserved for firmness on Jack’s account, until “life” took the matter into her own hands, and threw an obstacle across his easy, flower-strewn path, that even his devoted aunts could not smooth away for him, and over which he must needs prove himself a man and fight his own battle. But of that anon. “My dears, we have had some news!” began Miss Jane, “and we think you will be pleased, so we came across at once to tell you.” “Yes,” murmured Miss Mary, nodding her small head gravely while her sister spoke, to show that the sentiment was equally hers, “we thought you would be pleased.” By this time, Jack and Paddy were again seated on the table, swinging their feet, in front of the two little ladies who sat side by side on the sofa looking rather like two little Dutch dolls. Eileen had returned to her window seat, where she could keep one eye and one half of her mind on the mountains, and the other eye and the other half for more mundane reflections. “News!” exclaimed Paddy, clasping her hands ecstatically. “Oh! scrumptious; I just love news!” while Eileen and Jack looked up expectantly. “We have heard from Mrs Blake this morning, and they are coming back to Mourne Lodge,” continued Miss Jane, while Miss Mary, looking very pleased, murmured “Yes, coming back.” “Hurray!” cried Paddy, “Hurray! Hurray! Just think of the dances and picnics and things. Why don’t you say you’re glad, Jack—or do something to show it?”—and before he quite realised it, she had caught him by his coat and pulled him half round the room. Roused instantly, Jack proceeded to pick her up and deposit her in the corner behind the sofa, amid frantic struggles on his victim’s part and a general flutter of the two little ladies to protect anything breakable in their vicinity. This, indeed, they did, partly from force of habit, for it was a standing joke in their circle that whenever Paddy and Jack were in the room together, Miss Jane kept her eye on one half of the room and Miss Mary on the other, and at the first symptoms of one of their customary “rough and tumbles,” one little lady fluttered off collecting breakables from one side and standing guard over them, while the other little lady did likewise on the other side.