Then the pair advanced simultaneously; each gave and received a kiss, and stood back again, the younger one wiping the salute from his face with the cuff of his jacket.

"I hope you're not a kissing girl," he said in a low voice to Esther, who stood behind lost in amaze, "because I shan't let you kiss me."

"And which is Philip and which is Percy?" asked Mrs. St. Aiden again, more disposed to be afraid of the boys than they of her.

"Oh, we don't call ourselves by these affected names--n.o.body does," said the elder of the pair in lofty tones. "I suppose I'm Philip, but really I hardly know. They all call me Pickle, and him Puck. You'll have to do the same."

"I am not very fond of nicknames," said Mrs. St. Aiden, not quite pleased. "I shall call you by your right names whilst you are in my house."

"Call away; we shan't answer!" cried Pickle, with one of the ringing laughs which took off just a little from the bluntness of his speech.--"Come along, Puck, we've done it all now.--Oh, one thing more.

Crump sent his love to you, and was sorry he couldn't come down and see you. I think that's all."

"But I don't understand. Who is Crump?" asked Mrs. St. Aiden rather breathlessly.

"Oh, only father," answered Puck, as he sidled out at the door; and then making a dash across into the dining-room, he set up a great whoop of delight, for there was a splendid tea set out--chicken, and ham, and tarts, and Devonshire cream, and several kinds of cake and jam; and the boys had scrambled on to their chairs in a twinkling, and were calling out to somebody to make haste and give them their tea, as they were just starving.

"But you haven't washed your hands," said Esther aghast.

They contemplated their grubby little paws with great equanimity.

"Mine aren't dirty to speak of," said Pickle.

"Mine are quite clean," a.s.serted Puck, with an angelic smile.

"We're not like cats and girls, who are always washing," added Pickle.

"Do give us our tea. We're so hungry and thirsty!"

"But you haven't said grace!" said Esther, whereupon the boys began to laugh.

"Grown-up people don't say grace now. It's not the fashion. But fire away if you want to. Crump used to make us try, but we always burst out laughing in the middle, so we gave it up."

Esther said grace gravely, and the boys did not laugh that time. Then she helped them to what they wanted, regarding them rather in the light of wild animals, upon whose next acts there was no depending. And yet it was rather interesting, and she wanted to know more about them and their odd ways.

"Why do you call your father Crump?" she asked tentatively.

"Well, we have to call him something," said Pickle, with his mouth full, and they both began to giggle.

"It's my name," said Puck, after a short pause. "I thought of it in bed one night. We laughed for nearly an hour afterwards. We've called him it ever since."

"Does he like it?"

They stared at her round-eyed and amazed.

"I don't know. We never asked him. We've always got some name for him.

You've got to call people something."

"Why don't you call him father?" asked Esther mildly; but at that question they both went off into fits of laughter, and she felt herself getting red without knowing why.

"What's your name?" asked Puck, when he had recovered himself; but his brother cut in by saying,--

"You know it's Esther--Old Bobby told us that."

"So he did; and he said you were frightened at him, and that we should have to teach you better. Fancy being frightened at an old buffer like that--a jolly one too!"

Esther sat in silent amaze. She knew they were talking of Mr. Trelawny, but she was dumfounded at their audacity, and it was rather disconcerting to hear that he was aware of her feelings towards him.

She hoped that he took her silence for a grown-up reserve.

"You mustn't call Mr. Trelawny names," she said. "He's quite an old gentleman, and you must treat him with respect."

"I said he was a nice old buffer," said Puck, as though after that nothing more could be expected of him.

"But you call him 'Old Bobby,' and I can't think how you dare. It isn't at all respectful. I wonder he lets you."

"Well, he shouldn't play the bobby on us then," answered Pickle. "He said he'd come to carry us off, and he marched us out of the station like a pair of prisoners. We had to call him bobby after that. I want to go and see his house. Can we go up after tea?"

Esther shook her head. She was not prepared for such a move.

"You'd better wait for another time for that," she said. "I'll show you our house when you're done with tea."

"All right; but there isn't much to show, I should think. It's the funniest little box I was ever in. But perhaps we'll get some fun out of it, all the same. Crump said the sea was quite near. That'll be jolly fun. I like the sea awfully."

"I don't go there very often," said Esther. "Mama does not care about it. The coast is rather dangerous, you know."

But both boys began to laugh, as they seemed to do at whatever she said; and Esther let them finish their tea in silence, and then took them the round of the small premises.

They liked their attic, which was a comfort; and they liked the stable and little coach-house, and the bit of paddock and orchard beyond; and they looked with great approval at the pine wood stretching upwards towards the craggy heights between them and the sea, where Esther told them Mr. Trelawny's house stood. It could not be seen from there, but she showed them the path which led up to it and they cried, "Jolly, jolly, jolly!" and hopped about from one foot to another, and Esther wondered if it would be possible for them to go to that strange old house upon the summit of the crag, and not feel afraid of it.

It was a comfort to Esther that they were not unkind to her cat. They were rather disgusted that there was no dog belonging to the house; but they seemed kind-hearted boys, and left the cat in peace by the kitchen fire.

They had been up so early that morning that they were sleepy before their usual bed-time; and Esther was rather relieved when, at last, they were safely shut into their room for the night, having indignantly declined the offices of Genefer as nursery-maid, saying that they could do everything for themselves and each other.

Esther showed them up to their room herself, half fascinated, half repelled by their odd words and ways. Their parting good night, shouted through the door to her, was characteristic in the extreme.

"We're going to call you Tousle," one of them bawled through the key-hole; "you've got such a mop of hair hanging down, you know."

CHAPTER III.

AN ANXIOUS CHARGE.

"How quiet they are!" thought Esther, as she dressed herself next morning. "I daresay they are fast asleep still. They must be tired after that long journey yesterday. They shall sleep as long as they like this morning. I will tell Genefer not to call them. They are funny boys, but I think I shall soon get fond of them. Puck is so pretty, and looks as though he could be very good by himself. I hope we shall be happy together soon. I shall take care of them, and show them everything; and perhaps they will teach me some new games."

Genefer came in at this moment to brush out Esther's mane of hair. The little girl had dispensed with other help at her toilet, but the great, thick, waving ma.s.s of curly hair was beyond her strength, and Genefer took great pride in brushing and combing it. She was almost as proud of Esther's hair as Mrs. St. Aiden herself.

"O Genefer," said the little girl, "I think we won't call the boys yet.

They seem quite quiet, and I daresay they are asleep. We will let them have their sleep out this first morning."