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Updated: May 31, 2025
In the old days, with visions of parties at Rotherwood, Beatrice had at least been civil, but now that there seemed no further prospect of being asked to pleasant entertainments, she had turned round and treated Ingred with scant politeness in general, and sometimes with deliberate rudeness.
When the violin seemed to be bringing out laughter and tears, the piano must do its part, and not merely supply a succession of unimpassioned chords. Ingred was a good reader for a girl of fifteen, but she surpassed herself on this occasion, and seemed to accomplish the difficult passages almost by instinct.
I knew some other girls must have been here, and it gave me a homely feeling, as if you had only gone away for a few minutes, and might come back any time and talk to me. Then there was your portrait. I wondered who 'Ingred' was! The name struck my fancy immensely, and so did the face.
His time was generally very full, so he did not profess to teach juniors; it was only after celebrating her fifteenth birthday that Ingred had been eligible as one of his pupils. He had the reputation of being peppery tempered, therefore she walked into the room to take her first lesson with her heart performing a sort of jazz dance under her jersey. Dr.
Verity Richmond, who, with Nora, Filomena and Ingred, represented VA. in the hostel, was a brisk, up-to-date, go-ahead girl, full of fun and high spirits. She was a capital mimic, and had a turn for repartee that, quite good-naturedly, laid any adversary flat in the dust. If Nora and Fil were like rose and lily, she was decidedly the robin of the party.
How long are you staying at Lynstones, Ingred?" "A fortnight more, but don't talk of going home. I want the holidays to last forever!" "So do I, but they won't. School begins on the twenty-first of September. It will be rather sport to go to the new buildings at last, won't it? By the by, now the war's over, and we've all got our own again, I suppose you're going back to Rotherwood, aren't you?"
Quenrede, who professed great surprise, gave him a guarded welcome. "After all the fuss you made about my manners yesterday, you might have seemed more glad to see him," sniffed Ingred critically.
Just when I wanted a nice private talk with you and Mother before the boys came back. Why should you look glad to see a person when you're not?" "For the sake of manners, my dear!" "Then manners really mean humbug," declared Ingred, who loved to argue. "To say you're glad to see people, when you're not, is telling deliberate fibs. Most hypocritical, I call it! Why can't people tell the truth?"
A firm hand drew her away from the light, and in the shelter of a laurel bush, a voice, choking with laughter, proclaimed: "Done you, old girl! Done you brown! What about that bet? I told you you'd never know me!" "You abominable young wretch," replied Ingred, laughing in spite of herself. "How did you manage it? And who is your friend?" "Allow me to introduce Vashti, Queen of Persia!" "Bunkum!
Don't say again we've no luck!" cried Beatrice, wiping her boots carefully on the grass. "They were angels in disguise!" sighed Ingred. "Rather stout angels!" chuckled Verity. "Now, how are we going to get out of this field?" "Over the hedge, I suppose.
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