Indeed, it was broadly hinted to me that the little girls downstairs were anxious for some one to teach them "consequences"; would I mind?
Considering there was no game I detested more than "consequences," and no young ladies less open to instruction than the Misses Redwood, I did not jump at the offer.

It was evident, however, Tempest and Redwood wanted to talk, and with a vague sense that by leaving them to do so I was somehow acting for the benefit of Low Heath, I sacrificed myself, and sat down to assist in the usual composite stories; how, for instance, the square Dr England met the mealy-faced Sarah (the little girls knew my nickname as well as the Philosophers) up a tree.

He said to her, "We must part for ever;" she (that is I) said to him, "My ma shall know of this;" the consequence was that there was a row, and the world said, "It's all up." In present circumstances these occult narratives were full of serious meaning for me, and my thoughts were far more with the two seniors above than with the two exacting female juniors below.

However, the time passed, and presently Tempest's "Come along, youngster," apprised me that the hour of release had come.
Redwood walked back with us, and from certain fragments of conversation which fell on my ears I was able to gather something of the result of the conference.
"If it were only yourself, you know," said Redwood, "I'd say stick out." "But," said Tempest, "he knows I'm not sorry, even if I say so." "It's a choice between humble pie and Low Heath losing you," said the captain.
"Not much loss." "That's all you know.

There's not a fellow we could spare less." They walked on in silence; then Redwood said,-- "England ought to see that Jarman rots everything the way he goes on.
We'll be in a better position to get it altered if you cave in this once." "I vowed I wouldn't do it.