"
Planting himself in front of the row of eager children, grasping
Flanders's arm with one hand, and employing the other in a sort of
counting-off process, he called the roll.
Kathleen, exquisitely dressed and radiant with joy, a dainty miss who
looked to be fourteen but was said to be twelve, curtsied to Flanders,
who bowed low, his roving eye unwilling to relax its interest in the
flushed face of the governess. Then came Frederick, a sturdy
youngster; Marie Louise, a solemn-eyed ten-year-old; Wilberforce,
Reginald, Henrietta, Guinevere, Harold, Rosemary, Rutherford, and last
of all Imogene, who whimpered.
"There!" said Mr. Bingle proudly. "They did it very nicely, didn't
they, nurse?" He addressed the four nurses, who beamed as one. "Diggs,
you may summon the servants. I hear Mrs. Bingle and our guests in the
hall--or is it the--er--ahem!"
"The servants 'ave congregated in the 'all, sir. It is them that is
whispering," said Diggs, who had been scowling in the direction of the
door. "I shall speak to them, sir. They should be made to understand--
"
"Don't lecture them to-night, Diggs," broke in Mr.
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