“No,” says Pica, “from all such pomps and vanities as style, she will be quite clear.”

While Avice’s friendship goes as far as to say that if Aunt Charlotte cannot have Maude, perhaps Martha could get a little more training.  Whereupon Jane runs off by the yard explanations of the admirable training—­religious, moral, and intellectual—­of Bourne Parva, illustrated by the best answers of her favourite scholars, anecdotes of them, and the reports of the inspectors, religious and secular; and Avice listens with patience, nay, with respectful sympathy.

12.—­We miss Mary and Martyn more than I expected.  Careless and easy-going as they seem, they made a difference in the ways of the young people; they were always about with them, not as dragons, but for their own pleasure.  The presence of a professor must needs impose upon young men, and Mary, with her brilliant wit and charming manners, was a check without knowing it.  The boating party came back gay and triumphant, and the young men joined in our late meal; and oh, what a noise there was! though I must confess that it was not they who made the most.  Metelill was not guilty of the noise, but she was—­I fear I must say it—­flirting with all her might with a youth on each side of her, and teasing a third; I am afraid she is one of those girls who are charming to all, and doubly charming to your sex, and that it will never do to have her among the staff.  I don’t think it is old-maidish in us to be scandalised at her walking up and down the esplanade with young Horne till ten o’clock last night; Charley was behind with Bertie Elwood, and, I grieve to say, was smoking.  It lasted till Horace Druce went out to tell them that Metelill must come in at once, as it was time to shut up the house.

The Oxford girls were safe indoors; Isa working chess problems with another of the lads, Avice keeping Jane company over the putting the little ones to sleep—­in Mount Lebanon, as they call the Druce lodging—­and Pica preserving microscopic objects.  “Isn’t she awful?” said one of those pupils.  “She’s worse than all the dons in Cambridge.  She wants to be at it all day long, and all through the vacation.”

They perfectly flee from her.  They say she is always whipping out a microscope and lecturing upon protoplasms—­and there is some truth in the accusation.  She is almost as bad on the emancipation of women, on which there is a standing battle, in earnest with Jane—­in joke with Metelill; but it has, by special orders, to be hushed at dinner, because it almost terrifies grandmamma.  I fear Pica tries to despise her!