They came up to her tumultuously, a couple of overgrown, sandy-haired, light-eyed, sharp-featured young people, with mischief in every line of their faces, and dry humour in every turn of their heads. Rhoda was upstairs in Caryl’s sitting-room when they presented themselves to her, grinning with pleasure. “You don’t remember me,” said Rhoda. “No,” said George frankly. “I was only eight, and I don’t think I should have recognised you with your hair up.” “Do you think we’ve altered very much?” demanded Minnie. “Why, of course you have. You were only quite a little girl?” “Do you think we’ve improved?” asked George. “I hope so, I’m sure,” said Rhoda frankly. “That’s not what I call civil,” objected George. “Oh, yes, it is. Because of course I shouldn’t say it if I didn’t feel sure you had improved very much,” explained Rhoda. “Why, what was wrong with us?” he asked brusquely. “You used to listen at doors.” “Oh, so we should do now, if we got the chance,” said Minnie calmly. “I do like,” said George, “to know what’s going on all round me. Is Jack here still?” Rhoda grew red. “He has been here. He went away two days ago.” “Ah!” said George. “That’s why Aunt Sarah is in such a bad temper.” “Hush,” said Rhoda shocked. “Why should I hush? Everybody knows that’s true, except of course Uncle Robert. Aunt is always ill-tempered when she’s left alone with him.” Rhoda kept frowning and looking at Caryl, in the endeavour to stop the rash young man. At last she got up, and beckoned to George to follow her to the window, while Minnie remained with the boy. “You really mustn’t talk like that about Lady Sarah, and especially before Caryl,” she said. “Oh, well, there’s no harm in what I said. As for Aunt’s ill-temper, the poor little beggar must have noticed it himself. And as for my speaking about her flirtation with Jack Rotherfield, everybody knows all about that. It’s gone on for ever so long. That’s why nobody notices it, except, of course, Minnie and me.” “I don’t think you ought to talk like that. Sir Robert would be very angry if he were to hear you.” “No, he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t believe it, you know.” “I’m quite sure it would annoy him very much if he were to hear the way you talk.” “But he won’t hear it. Bless your heart, do you think I don’t know that it’s only a safety-valve for Aunt?” said George with the air of an astute critic. “If it were not for Jack Rotherfield’s visits, she’d sling her hook altogether.” “Oh, hush!” “She would, I tell you. Even my grandmother knows it. That’s why I call him a safety-valve.” Rhoda could scarcely believe her ears when she heard this young lad of twenty presuming thus to criticise his elders. The fact that there was at least a grain of truth in what he said made him, however, difficult to contradict, as he was impossible to silence. “I should think,” she said severely, “that your society and that of your sister was lively enough to keep Lady Sarah amused.”