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 David Copperfield. I should like to tell her so; but she would not understand. I don't suppose she has ever read anything but Markham's History and Mangnall's Questions—improving books like that.

When we got home we found all four of those who had ridden in the cab sitting in our sitting-room—we don't call it nursery now—looking very thoroughly washed, and our girls were asking polite questions and the others were saying "Yes" and "No" and "I don't know." We boys did not say anything. We stood at the window and looked out till the gong went for our dinner. We felt it was going to be awful—and it was. The new-comers would never have done for knight-errants, or to carry the cardinal's sealed message through the heart of France on a horse; they would never have thought of anything to say to throw the enemy off the scent when they got into a tight place.

They said, "Yes, please." and "No, thank you"; and they ate very neatly, and always wiped their mouths before they drank, as well as after, and never spoke with them full.

And after dinner it got worse and worse.

We got out all our books, and they said, "Thank you," and didn't look at them properly. And we got out all our toys, and they said, "Thank you, it's very nice," to everything. And it got less and less pleasant, and towards teatime it came to nobody saying anything except Noel and H. O.—and they talked to each other about cricket.