"I think Millie ought to pour out the tea always."
"So do I. Why, Millie has been here ever so much the longest."
"And I'm sure she's nearly as old as that Miss Conway!"
"Oh, I do wish dear sweet old Jackie had never gone away."
"Poor Millie Never mind, darling Millie. We'll always like you best."
These sentences greeted my ears in a rapid rush, as I gained the half-open schoolroom door, spoken eagerly and in raised tones. For a moment I faltered, and could have fled. The difficulties of my new position came over me keenly.
But the next instant, I rallied and opened wide the door, taking care to make myself heard. The small chorus of utterances died a sudden death, and my chief comfort was that nobody could know me to have heard aught.
"This is your seat, Miss Conway," said Thyrza.
I went half-way thither, and paused. "Maggie proposed that Miss Millington should make tea this afternoon."
"Nonsense, Miss Conway,—I mean, that is all nonsense of Maggie's," said Thyrza. "It is your place."