She looked at me blankly, and made a little gesture of dismay.

“I see I must teach you history, cousin,” she said.  “Father tells us that history is being made all about us in these days—­and, would you believe it?  Benny took it that books were being made in the woods all around the house, and stole out to see, spite of the law that father made—­”

“Who thaw me?” shouted Benny.

“Hush!  Be quiet!” said Dorothy.

Benny lay back in his chair and beat upon the table, howling defiance at his sister through Harry’s shouts of laughter.

“Silence!” cried Dorothy, rising, flushed and furious.  “Is this a corn-feast, that you all sit yelping in a circle?  Ruyven, hold that door, and see that no one follows us—­”

“What for?” demanded Ruyven, rising.  “If you mean to keep our cousin Ormond to yourself—­”

“I wish to discuss secrets with my cousin Ormond,” said Dorothy, loftily, and stepped from her chair, nose in the air, and that heavy-lidded, insolent glance which once before had withered Ruyven, and now withered him again.

“We will go to the play-room,” she whispered, passing me; “that room has a bolt; they’ll all be kicking at the door presently.  Follow me.”

Ere we had reached the head of the stairs we heard a yell, a rush of feet, and she laughed, crying:  “Did I not say so?  They are after us now full bark!  Come!”

She caught my hand in hers and sped up the few remaining steps, then through the upper hallway, guiding me the while her light feet flew; and I, embarrassed, bewildered, half laughing, half shamed to go a-racing through a strange house in such absurd a fashion.

“Here!” she panted, dragging me into a great, bare chamber and bolting the door, then leaned breathless against the wall to listen as the chase galloped up, clamoring, kicking and beating on panel and wall, baffled.

“They’re raging to lose their new cousin,” she breathed, smiling across at me with a glint of pride in her eyes.  “They all think mightily of you, and now they’ll be mad to follow you like hound-pups the whip, all day long.”  She tossed her head.  “They’re good lads, and Cecile is a sweet child, too, but they must be made to understand that there are moments when you and I desire to be alone together.”

“Of course,” I said, gravely.

“You and I have much to consider, much to discuss in these uncertain days,” she said, confidently.  “And we cannot babble matters of import to these children—­”

“I’m seventeen!” howled Ruyven, through the key-hole.  “Dorothy’s not eighteen till next month, the little fool—­”

“Don’t mind him,” said Dorothy, raising her voice for Ruyven’s benefit.  “A lad who listens to his elders through a key-hole is not fit for serious—­”

A heavy assault on the door drowned Dorothy’s voice.  She waited calmly until the uproar had subsided.

“Let us sit by the window,” she said, “and I will tell you how we Varicks stand betwixt the deep sea and the devil.”