"It comes in handy sometimes," murmured Duane.
"Yes, I suppose it does, when you don't want to give a straightforward answer to a straightforward question," retorted Kitty.
"Or when you don't want to tell the truth," added Duane, with laughter in her eyes. "Hallo, there goes the junior bell." She laid her hand on Erica's shoulder, and shook her gently. Erica opened her eyes and blinked drowsily.
"Your bell has gone, kiddie," said Duane. "I tell you what. I'm going to carry you upstairs to bed and send Bertha along with a glass of hot milk. You'll sleep like a top after that."
"But—I'm much too heavy," protested Erica, as the head prefect stooped and lifted her out of the chair in her strong young arms.
Duane laughed contemptuously.
"Oh, I'm pretty strong, in spite of my frail appearance."
She turned at the doorway, evidently holding with ease the younger girl, whose fair silky hair formed a striking contrast to her own dark colouring, and glanced across at Kitty, saying flippantly:
"Don't look too despondent, Kitty. Cheer yourself up with the thought that you won't have to listen to my gifted conversation much longer. Hilary returns to-morrow evening. She'll tell you plenty of home truths if you want straightforward answers. Sorry it's not in my line."
When she had disappeared Kitty put down her pen and stretched herself, then gazed round the little room. It would seem quite strange to be back again in her own study. She really had got quite used to the company of France and Duane, and their somewhat unusual little ways. In fact, Kitty was rather troubled and uneasy when she discovered that not only had she got used to the present arrangement, but that she did not look forward at all to going back to the old one.