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"I hate ladies!" cried Gwendolyn, rapping her heels by way of emphasis. "Tale-bearing is vulgar," asserted Miss Royle. "Next year I'm going to day-school like Johnnie Blake!" "Oh, hush your nonsense!" commanded Thomas, irritably. Miss Royle glanced up at him. "That will do," she snapped. He bridled up. "What the little imp needs is a good paddlin'," he declared.
"It's your duty to look after Gwendolyn when there are no lessons," reminded Miss Royle, but weakening noticeably. "On week-days?" shrilled Jane. "Oh, don't try to fool me with any of your schemin'! I see. And I just laugh in my sleeve!" Gwendolyn fixed inquiring gray eyes upon that sleeve of Jane's dress which was the nearer. It was of black sateen. It fitted the stout arm sleekly.
It's clear shameful, I say, and enough to give a sensitive person the nerves. As I remarked to Jane only " "You remark too many things to Jane," interposed the governess, curtly. Now he sobered. "I hope you ain't displeased with me," he ventured. "Ain't displeased?" repeated Miss Royle, more than ever fretful. "Oh, Thomas, do stop murdering the King's English!"
Thomas, too, feigned indifference to the rat! tat! tat! of heels. He bent above the table attentively. And to Gwendolyn was wafted down a sweet aroma. "Thank you," said Miss Royle. "And cake, too? Splendid! How did you manage it?" A knife-edge cut against china. She helped herself generously. Gwendolyn fell silent to listen. "Well, I haven't Mr.
Furthermore, again she was turning over and over the direful statements made concerning her parents. She employed the dinner-hour in formulating a plan that was simple but daring one that would bring quick enlightenment concerning the things that worried. Miss Royle was still indisposed. Jane was locked in her own room, from which issued an occasional low bellow.
It was very interesting to meet all the neighbouring Europeans mostly planters and their wives. There were about twenty people, and everyone very nice. I wish I had time to tell you about them, but I haven't. After polo, which I enjoyed watching, we all had tea together and talked very affably. Then Mr. Royle drove me home while Boggley went with Mrs. Royle. I heard, as we were leaving, Mr.
"It was a narrow squeak yesterday," he reflected. "Until I met the girl to-night, I was doubtful as to her having failed to see me on the coach. It would have been most unfortunate had both of them recognized me; they would have compared notes in that case, and discovered that Victor Nevill and Mr. Royle were one and the same. I must be more careful in future.
A man, lying in his bunk with his face toward me, started up and sent his legs, incased in blanket trousers and brown woolen stockings, flying out. "Here's Mr. Royle, mates!" he called out. "Let's ask him the name of the port the captain means to touch at for proper food, for we aren't goin' to wait much longer."
Moreover, a pocket-handkerchief was bound round the reptilian jaws and tied at the top of the head in a bow-knot. She had gotten rid of Thomas. But here was Miss Royle! There was no time for greetings. Again were sounding those furious growls "Rar! Rar! Rar!" Jane swung round in a half-circle to warn the governess. "It's that Bear!" she hummed. "Can't you drive him away?"
For instance" here he paused, running his fingers through his long hair "there's Miss Royle, and Thomas, and Jane." She was silent for a long moment. Miss Royle! Thomas! Jane!
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