“All right,” the other agreed cheerfully. “But you’ve got to keep strictly to the thing in hand, if you’re going to study with me, Sarah Blake.”
Blue Bonnet’s preparations for studying were rather a surprise to Sarah. They consisted of two great chairs drawn close to the broad west window in the dining-room, a dish of apples, and another of cookies. “One can’t work well when one’s hungry,” Blue Bonnet explained. “And one can eat so well when one’s working.”
And, in spite of Sarah’s protests, she was made to occupy one of the big chairs and take one of the big apples, before Blue Bonnet would allow her to open a book.
After that, however, Blue Bonnet settled down to her books bravely. Scarcely speaking, save for a little exclamation of perplexity or impatience, now and then.
Blue Bonnet was trying very hard to remember her promise to Mr. Hunt these days; in consequence, matters at school were running much more smoothly. She did not know how often Miss Rankin, recognizing how earnestly the girl was endeavoring to do her best, helped her over more than one rough place. She did know that she was really getting to like Miss Rankin and to want to please her.
“I suppose,” she said, laying the last book down with a long breath of relief, “that she’s an acquired taste—like olives.”
“Who is?” Sarah asked; Sarah was not quite through.
“The ‘rankin’ officer.’”
“Miss Rankin like olives!” Sarah exclaimed, thoroughly puzzled. “Blue Bonnet, what do you mean?”
“Doesn’t she like them?” Blue Bonnet asked, carefully selecting another apple.