In Rosnacree House, along with Sir Lucius, lives Juliet Lentaigne, his maiden sister, elderly, intellectual, dominating, the competent mistress of a sufficient staff of servants. She lived there in her girlhood. She returned to live there after the death of Lady Lentaigne. Priscilla, Sir Lucius’ only child, comes to Rosnacree House for such holidays as are granted by a famous Dublin school. She was sent to the school at the age of eleven because she rebelled against her aunt. Having reached the age of fifteen she rebels more effectively, whenever the coming of holidays affords opportunity. Being a young woman of energy, determination and skill in rebellion, she made an assault upon her Aunt Juliet’s authority on the very first morning of her summer holidays. She began at breakfast time. “Father,” she said, “I may go to meet Cousin Frank at the train, mayn’t I?” “Certainly,” said Sir Lucius. It was right that some one should meet Frank Mannix on his arrival. Sir Lucius did not want to do so himself. A youth of seventeen is a troublesome guest, difficult to deal with. He is neither man enough to associate on quite equal terms with grown men nor boy enough to be turned loose to play according to his own devices. Sir Lucius did not look forward to the task of entertaining his nephew. He was pleased that Priscilla should take some part, even a small part, of the business off his hands. Priscilla glanced triumphantly at her aunt. “There is no possible objection,” said Miss Lentaigne, “to your meeting your cousin at the train, but if you are to do so you cannot spend the morning in your boat.” Priscilla thought she could. “I’m only going as far as Delginish to bathe,” she said. “I’ll be back in lots of time.” “Be sure you are,” said Sir Lucius. “After being out in the boat,” said Miss Lentaigne, “you will be both dirty and untidy, certainly not fit to meet your cousin at the train.” Priscilla, who had a good deal of experience of boats, knew that her aunt’s fears were well founded. But she had not yet reached the age at which a girl thinks it desirable to be clean, tidy and well dressed when she goes to meet a strange cousin. She treated Miss Lentaigne’s opposition as beneath contempt. “I must bathe,” she said, “It’s the first day of the hols.” “Holidays,” said Miss Lentaigne. “Sylvia Courtney,” said Priscilla, “who won the prize for English literature at school calls them ‘hols.’” “That,” said Sir Lucius, “settles it. The authority of any one who wins a first prize in English literature----” “And besides,” said Priscilla, “she said it, hols that is, to Miss Pettigrew when she was asking when they began. She didn’t object.” Miss Lentaigne poured out her second cup of tea in silence. Against Miss Pettigrew’s tacit approval of the word there was no arguing. Miss Pettigrew, the head of a great educational establishment, does more than win, she awards prizes in English literature.