“I like the reading lessons and the history,” she said. “I can’t do arithmetic. I’d rather play the piano.”
“Play the piano!” Jacqueline repeated, as if she couldn’t believe her ears. “You mean you like to practice?”
“Oh, yes!” said Caroline from her heart.
“Good night!” said Jacqueline.
“Don’t—don’t you?” faltered Caroline.
Jacqueline, like the skipper in “The Wreck of the Hesperus,” laughed a scornful laugh.
“But I’m going to get out of it this summer,” she boasted darkly. “I’ll tell my Great-aunt Eunice I’ve sprained my thumb, or something. She hasn’t seen me for years and years. I suppose she thinks I’m a little goody-goody. Well, she’s going to get the surprise of her life.”
Jacqueline tossed her head defiantly, and Caroline fairly glowed with admiration.
“You’re not a bit afraid of strangers, are you?” she quavered.
Jacqueline smiled in a superior way, as if to challenge: “Bring on your strangers!”