“Now, you children will like to play games, I suppose,” said Mrs. Jallatt, by way of giving things a start, and as they were too well-bred to contradict her there only remained the question of what they were to play at.

“I know of a good game,” said the elder Wrotsley innocently. “The fellows leave the room and think of a word; then they come back again, and the girls have to find out what the word is.”

Rollo knew the game. He would have suggested it himself if his faction had been in the majority.

“It doesn’t promise to be very exciting,” sniffed the superior Dolores Sneep as the boys filed out of the room. Rollo thought differently. He trusted to Providence that Wrotsley had nothing worse than knotted handkerchiefs at his disposal.