“What are you going to do to-day?” said Flossy.
“Nothing,” replied Clarissa, with emphasis. “I shall go to sleep, or read ‘Tom Brown’—that’s all about boys—or nurse the kitten,” picking it up and kissing it, “which is babyish in a governess, you know.”
“Dear me!” said Flossy, “I shouldn’t care what it was if I liked to do it. Well, it’s nice to have some time to oneself. I shall draw hard. I shall go to the School of Art twice a-week, and see if I can’t get into the Life class; and I shall be able to help at the drawing classes they’re having down at Oxley National School. And I want to have a tea for my Sunday class—I wonder if Mary would! And I never do read anything steadily when the girls are here. Besides,” with equal vivacity, “I want a new dress, and must see about it; I think I’ll do that first.”
“Anything else in a small way?” said Clarissa.
“Oh, fifty other things if I’d time to think of them.”
“Well,” said Clarissa, in languid, sleepy tones, “I don’t want to read a novel; there would be sure to be any number of girls in it! I’d like to be a man myself for the holidays, for a change. One would take an interest in girls then, at any rate!”
“Dear me, why don’t you take an interest in them? I am sure forming the minds of others is the most interesting thing possible.”
“If one had a mind of one’s own. I haven’t.”
“Clarissa, I call that affectation. I don’t consider you at all a stupid person.”
“Thank you,” said Clarissa, again kissing the kitten.