teaches all of us. I wish I could take him in, but with Hermy and Ursy
coming tonight, I have as little room as Mrs Quantock."

"He shall come here," said Lucia brightly, as if she had just that
moment thought of it. "There are Hamlet and Othello vacant"--all her
rooms were named after Shakespearian plays--"and it will not be the
least inconvenient. Will it, Peppino? I shall really like having him
here. Shall we consider that settled, then?"

Daisy made a perfectly futile effort to send forth a message of love to
all quarters of the compass. Bitterly she repented of having ever
mentioned her Guru to Lucia: it had never occurred to her that she
would annex him like this. While she was cudgelling her brains as to
how she could arrest this powerful offensive, Lucia went sublimely on.

"Then there's the question of what we shall pay him," she said. "Dear
Daisy tells us that he scarcely knows what money is, but I for one
could never dream of profiting by his wisdom, if I was to pay nothing
for it. The labourer is worthy of his hire, and so I suppose the
teacher is. What if we pay him five shillings each a lesson: that will
make a pound a lesson. Dear me! I shall be busy this August. Now how
many classes shall we ask him to give us? I should say six to begin
with, if everybody agrees. One every day for the next week except
Sunday. That is what you all wish? Yes? Then shall we consider that
settled?"

Mrs Quantock, still impotently rebelling, resorted to the most dire
weapon in her armoury, namely, sarcasm.

"Perhaps, darling Lucia," she said, "it would be well to ask my Guru if