The Younger Set | Page 5

"that your father and mother are not
at home. Perhaps I'd better stop in later."
"But you are going to stay here, aren't you?" exclaimed Drina in dismay.
"Don't you expect to tell us stories? Don't you expect to stay here and
live with us and put on your uniform for us and show us your swords
and pistols? _Don't_ you?"
"We have waited such a very long time for you to do this," added Billy.
"If you'll come up to the nursery we'll have a drag-hunt for you,"
pleaded Drina. "Everybody is out of the house and we can make as
much noise as we please! Will you?"
"Haven't you any governesses or nurses or something?" asked Selwyn,
finding himself already on the stairway, and still being dragged
upward.
"Our governess is away," said Billy triumphantly, "and our nurses can
do nothing with us."
"I don't doubt it," murmured Selwyn; "but where are they?"
"Somebody must have locked them in the schoolroom," observed Billy
carelessly. "Come on, Uncle Philip; we'll have a first-class drag-hunt
before we unlock the schoolroom and let them out."
"Anyway, they can brew tea there if they are lonely," added Drina,
ushering Selwyn into the big sunny nursery, where he stood, irresolute,

looking about him, aware that he was conniving at open mutiny. From
somewhere on the floor above persistent hammering and muffled
appeals satisfied him as to the location and indignation of the
schoolroom prisoners.
"You ought to let them out," he said. "You'll surely be punished."
"We will let them out after we've made noise enough," said Billy
calmly. "We'll probably be punished anyway, so we may as well make
a noise."
"Yes," added Drina, "we are going to make all the noise we can while
we have the opportunity. Billy, is everything ready?"
And before Selwyn understood precisely what was happening, he found
himself the centre of a circle of madly racing children and dogs. Round
and round him they tore. Billy yelled for the hurdles and Josephine
knocked over some chairs and dragged them across the course of the
route; and over them leaped and scrambled children and puppies,
splitting the air with that same quality of din which had greeted him
upon his entrance to his sister's house.
When there was no more breath left in the children, and when the dogs
lay about, grinning and lolling, Drina approached him, bland and
dishevelled.
"That circus," she explained, "was for your entertainment. Now will
you please do something for ours?"
"Certainly," said Selwyn, looking about him vaguely; "shall
we--er--build blocks, or shall I read to you--er--out of that big
picture-book--"
"_Picture_-book!" repeated Billy with scorn; "that's good enough for
nurses to read. You're a soldier, you know. Soldiers have real stories to
tell."
"I see," he said meekly. "What am I to tell you about--our missionaries

in Sulu?"
"In the first place," began Drina, "you are to lie down flat on the floor
and creep about and show us how the Moros wriggle through the grass
to bolo our sentinels."
"Why, it's--it's this way," began Selwyn, leaning back in his
rocking-chair and comfortably crossing one knee over the other; "for
instance, suppose--"
"Oh, but you must show us!" interrupted Billy. "Get down on the floor
please, uncle."
"I can tell it better!" protested Selwyn; "I can show you just the--"
"Please lie down and show us how they wriggle?" begged Drina.
"I don't want to get down on the floor," he said feebly; "is it
necessary?"
But they had already discovered that he could be bullied, and they had
it their own way; and presently Selwyn lay prone upon the nursery
floor, impersonating a ladrone while pleasant shivers chased
themselves over Drina, whom he was stalking.
And it was while all were passionately intent upon the pleasing and
snake-like progress of their uncle that a young girl in furs, ascending
the stairs two at a time, peeped perfunctorily into the nursery as she
passed the hallway--and halted amazed.
Selwyn, sitting up rumpled and cross-legged on the floor, after having
boloed Drina to everybody's exquisite satisfaction, looked around at the
sudden rustle of skirts to catch a glimpse of a vanishing figure--a
glimmer of ruddy hair and the white curve of a youthful face,
half-buried in a muff.
Mortified, he got to his feet, glanced out into the hallway, and began
adjusting his attire.

"No, you don't!" he said mildly, "I decline to perform again. If you
want any more wriggling you must accomplish it yourselves. Drina, has
your governess--by any unfortunate chance--er--red hair?"
"No," said the child; "and won't you please crawl across the floor and
bolo me--just once more?"
"Bolo me!" insisted Billy. "I haven't been mangled yet!"
"Let Billy assassinate somebody himself. And, by the way, Drina, are
there any maids or