The little boy looked at her, saw she was in earnest, and obeyed somewhat unwillingly.

“Now then, Ann,” said Philip, “speak out; be as quick as ever you can.”

“Philip,” said Ann, in a solemn voice, “don’t you want to know all about the children who are coming to-night?”

“Is that what the secret is about?” said Philip in disgust.  “Do you know, Ann, what I heard Miss Ramsay say to Simpson to-day.  She said that the new children would be awful bothers, and that she for one does not know if she is going to stay, and Simpson said she was sure that she would give notice too.  Miss Ramsay said it was an awful shame bringing four children to the house, and Simpson threw up her hands.  You know how she looks when she throws up her hands.  And she said, ‘Them’s my sentiments, Miss Ramsay.’  Do you know what she meant by ‘Them’s my sentiments,’ Ann, ’cos I don’t?  I never heard such funny words before.  Did you, Ann?”

“No,” said Ann; “but you ought not to have listened, Phil.”

“Oh, I often listen!” replied Philip calmly.  “I get to know all kinds of funny things that way, and they turn out no end useful.  I know lots of things about Miss Ramsay, and since I just let her know that I did, she is not half so hard on me.  That’s how I find listening useful.”

“Well, it is not right,” said Ann, “but I have no time to argue with you now, Phil; I want to talk about the children.  Whatever Simpson says, and whatever Miss Ramsay says, I am delighted that they are coming.  I think it will be fun.  In my heart, you know, Phil, I love fun, and I want to be able to talk English sometimes, and Phil, would, would you like to know their names?”

“Their names?” said Philip.  “I suppose they have names, although I never thought about them.”

“Well, of course they have, and I’ll tell you what they are.  They have got lovely names; once I heard mother say that the whole four of them were called after heathen idols.  Isn’t it awful and exciting to be called after a heathen idol?  Oh, Phil! they have such lovely names!”

Philip was not much interested in heathen idols, but Ann’s excited face and her bright blue eyes did strike him as out of the common.

“Well, you are in a state,” he said.  “What creatures girls are!  You’ll catch it when mother comes home.  You know she never can stand anybody all jumpy, and jerky, and quivery, like you are now.  Well, what are the names?  Out with them and get them over.”

“Iris is the name of the eldest girl,” said Ann.  “Then comes Apollo—­he is a boy.”

“I’ll never be able to get hold of that name,” said Philip.  “Apollo! how queer.”

“But it is not queer, really,” said Ann, delighted at having roused his real interest at last.  “Of course, Apollo is very well known indeed.  He was a sort of beautiful god long ago.”

“But this boy is not a god—­horrid little beggar,” said Philip.  “Well, what are the names of the others?”