‘I’m sure I know,’ cried Fergus.
‘Well, what are they?’ asked Harry.
‘Having mamma!’ cried the little boy.
‘Hear, hear! That’s right, Fergy man! Couldn’t be better!’ cried Harry, and there was a general acclamation, which inspired gentle Mysie with the fear that her motherless cousin might feel the contrast, and, though against rules, she whispered—
‘She will make you like one of us.’
‘That wasn’t what I meant,’ returned Dolores, a little contemptuously.
‘What did you mean?’ said Mysie.
‘Why, you’ve no classes, nor lectures, nor master, and only just a mere daily governess.’
Dolores did not mean this to be heard beyond her neighbour, but Mysie demanded—
‘What, do you want to be doing lessons all day long?’