"I did plan to go on, but she said when I got eddicated, I might hear of other things to do—things I'd like better. So mebby I'll change my mind."
A beautiful smile lightened John's dark eyes.
"She, was right, Amarilly. There are things that would be better for you to do, and I—we—will try to help you find them."
"Every one gits the stage fever some time," remarked Amarilly philosophically, "She said so. She said she had it once herself, but she knew now that there was something she would like better."
His smile grew softer.
"She wouldn't tell me what it was," continued Amarilly musingly. Then a troubled look came into her eyes.
"Mebby I shouldn't tell you what she says. Flamingus says I talk too much."
"It was all right to tell me, Amarilly," he replied with radiant eyes, "as long as she said nothing personal."
Amarilly looked mystified.
"I mean," he explained gently, "that she said nothing of me, nothing that you should not repeat. I am glad, though, to see that you are conscientious. Miss King tells me you are to go to the night-school. Do you attend Sunday-school?"