“Annie dear, if you wish to have a fortnight or more in town--” “Oh no, no, auntie, indeed!” “We could get on now without you. Or we would keep Emmie till the room is wanted; but I had far rather be alone than have the responsibility of Emmie.” “No, no, indeed; I don’t think Adrian would be good long with her. I had much rather stay--only Emmie did wish, and she hates the--” “Oh, my dear, you need not tell me; I only know that I cannot have her after next week; the room will be wanted for Gerald.” “She could sleep with me.” “No, Annie, I must disappoint you. There is not room for her, and her flights when Gerald comes would never do for your uncle. You know it yourself.” Anna could not but own the wisdom of the decision, and Emmie, after grumbling at Aunt Cherry, took herself off. She had visited the Infirmary and the Convalescent Home, and even persuaded Mrs. Hablot to show her the Union Workhouse, but she never sent her contribution to the Mouse-trap. CHAPTER IX. -- OUT BEYOND Do the work that’s nearest, Though it’s dull at whiles, Helping, when we meet them, Lame dogs over stiles. See in every hedgerow Marks of angels’ feet; Epics in each pebble Underneath our feet.--C. KINGSLEY. “Drawing? Well done, Cherie! That’s a jolly little beggar; quite masterly, as old Renville would say,” exclaimed Gerald Underwood, looking at a charming water-colour of a little fisher-boy, which Mrs. Grinstead was just completing. “‘The Faithful Henchman,’ it ought to be called,” said Anna. “That little being has attached himself to Fergus Merrifield, and follows him and Adrian everywhere on what they are pleased to call their scientific expeditions.” “The science of larks?” “Oh dear, no. Fergus is wild after fossils, and has made Adrian the same, and he really knows an immense deal. They are always after fossils and stones when they are out of school.” “The precious darling!” “Miss Mohun says Fergus is quite to be trusted not to take him into dangerous places.” “An unlooked-for blessing. Ha!” as he turned over his aunt’s portfolio, “that’s a stunner! You should work it up for the Academy.” “This kind of thing is better for the purpose,” Mrs. Grinstead said. “Throw away such work upon a twopenny halfpenny bazaar! Heaven forefend!” “Don’t be tiresome, Gerald,” entreated Anna. “You are going to do all sorts of things for it, and we shall have no end of fun.” “For the sake of stopping the course of the current,” returned Gerald, proceeding to demonstrate in true nineteenth-century style the hopelessness of subjecting education to what he was pleased to call clericalism. “You’ll never reach the masses while you insist on using an Apostle spoon.” “Masses are made up of atoms,” replied his aunt. “And we shall be lost if you don’t help,” added Anna.