"Not I—I shall throw myself as usual on Gwen's mercy. Come here, Gwendolen mine, that's a sweet angelic cherub, and interpret these abominable lines!"
Gwen came rather reluctantly. Of late Netta had grown into the habit of applying to her for help with her extremely ill-prepared work, and the habit was assuming proportions that Gwen did not like. At first it had only been a word or two, then an odd sentence, but it was rapidly developing into a demand for a translation of the whole lesson.
"Oh, I say, Netta, you make me a regular henchman!" she objected. "Why should I act as providence to you continually?"
"Because you know the lesson, my hearty, and I don't. Ergo, it is your duty and privilege to impart your information to me."
"Don't always see my privileges."
"Then you ought. If you're helped, you ought to help others."
"Oh, Gwen! I'm sure Grinnie helps you at home!" broke out Millicent Cooper.
"She doesn't! She doesn't, indeed! I do all my prep, by myself."
"Can you actually swear on your honour she's never once helped you?" said Annie Edwards.