"Yes. I ought to be, I mean. I don't believe I've touched anything. I was thinking——"
"Two hours on end? Do you know the time? I heard Miss Durand clamouring for you just now." Clare looked mischievous. She could forgive forgetfulness of other people's classes.
Louise was serene.
"I'm sorry. I'm very sorry. I'd forgotten. I must go."
But she made no movement. She sat looking at Miss Hartill as if nothing else existed for her. The intent, fearless adoration in her eyes was very pleasant to Clare; novel, too, after the more sophisticated glances of the older girls.
With an odd little impulse of motherliness she picked up Louise's books, stacked them neatly and fitted them into the satchel. Louise watched her. Miss Hartill buckled the strap and handed her the bundle.
"There you are, Louise! Run along, my child, I'm afraid you'll get a scolding." She stooped to her, bright-eyed, laughing. "And what were you thinking of, Louise, for two long hours?"
"You," said Louise simply.
A touch of colour stole into Clare's thin cheeks. She took the small face between her hands and kissed it lightly.
"Silly child!" said Miss Hartill.