"But it does stop," wailed Susan, "often."
"Yes, thank Heaven," said Jane, "if it didn't, we'd be burnt up alive by our own vitality."
"Oh, dear," said Susan briefly, "you've an answer for everything. Well, let's get dinner."
They went into the kitchen.
CHAPTER XII
EMILY'S PROJECT
AFTER dinner that day Emily Mead came with her work. Emily Mead was one of those nondescript girls who seem to spring up more and more thickly in these troublous, churned-up times of ours.
Too pretty to be plain, too unattractive to be beautiful. Too well-to-do to need to work, too poor to attain to anything for which she longed. Too clever to belong to her class, not clever enough to rise above it. Altogether a very fit subject for Jane to "sunshine," as her aunt put it.
"How do you get along with old Mrs. Croft?" she asked, directly she was seated.