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"How very nice," said Jane, feeling this a distinct anti-climax.

"You see it's Merivale, only the letters all mixed like the crosswords," said Mrs. Merivale. "It seemed so original. The girls love it and Elsie, she's my baby, the one that's in the Waafs, sometimes calls me Mrs. Valimere, just in fun, and we all thoroughly enjoy it."

Jane then managed to get away. As she walked home, she pondered on the niceness of Mrs. Merivale; also upon her exhaustingness. What her father's Mr. Adams would think of it she could not guess, but she knew he was rich and wanted accommodation, and hoped that Mrs. Merivale and her daughters might benefit. All she could do was to give a good report of the rooms and hope for the best.

When she got back she found Master Gresham and his friend Tom Watson having their tea in the garden. Beside them was a large iron dipper containing a quantity of snails frothing themselves to death in salt and water.

"How disgusting," she said, unsympathetically.

"Well, mother, you don't want the snails to eat the vegetables," said Frank, reproachfully. "Oh, mother, I told Tom about Caesar adsum jam forte, but he's only just begun Latin so he didn't laugh."