“Too old or too wise?” said Magdalen laughing.
“I have got into the highest form in everything. Every one at Filston of my age is leaving off all the bother.”
“Not Agatha.”
“Oh, but Agatha is—!”
“Is what?
“Agatha is awfully clever, and wants to be something!”
“Something? But do you want to evaporate? To be nothing at all, I mean,” said Magdalen, seeing her first word was bewildering, and Thekla put in—
“Flapsy couldn’t go off in steam, could she? Isn’t that evaporating?”
“I think what she wants is to be a young lady at large! Eh, Vera? Only I don’t quite see how that is to be managed, even if it is quite a worthy ambition. But we will talk that over another time. Do you see how pretty those sails are crossing the bay?”
Neither girl seemed to have eyes for the lovely blue of the sea in the spring sunshine, nor the striking forms of ruddy peaks of rock that enclosed it. Uneducated eyes, she thought, as she slowly manœuvred the pony down the steep hill before coming to the Rockstone Cliff Road. The other two girls were following her direction across field and road, and making their observations.