"She isn't quite so well."
The younger girl's face showed the flicker of a fear of losing her entertainment; on perceiving which the elder pursued:
"But we shan't romp or racket—shall we? We shall be very quiet."
"Very, very quiet," Jean eagerly echoed.
Her new friend's smile became a laugh, which was followed by the abrupt question: "Do you mean to be long with Mrs. Beever?"
"Till her son comes home. You know he's at Oxford, and his term soon ends."
"And yours ends with it—you depart as he arrives?"
"Mrs. Beever tells me I positively shan't," said Jean.
"Then you positively won't. Everything is done here exactly as Mrs. Beever tells us. Don't you like her son?" Rose Armiger asked.
"I don't know yet; it's exactly what she wants me to find out."
"Then you'll have to be very clear."
"But if I find out I don't?" Jean risked.
"I shall be very sorry for you!"
