"Absolute rubbish," Noreen persisted. "Gabby, do you hear? Joey wants to lunch with her cousins and go with them instead of with us."
"I don't want—at all," poor Joey said. "Only—John seemed to want me...."
"The conceit of the kid," laughed Barbara.
"I mean he wanted me about signalling, I think," Joey explained in a hurry.
"Oh, tell him signalling must jolly well wait. Get the Head to let you 'phone," advised Barbara, and Joey got up from table with every intention of taking her advice. But, when she found herself in the passage leading to Miss Conyngham's room, the rather urgent note in John's voice haunted her. He had seemed to think it mattered that she should come to lunch to-day, and he had been so very kind in teaching her to signal. And if for some odd inexplicable reason it should matter, it would be so poor and un-English to have stayed away just because it would be more fun going with the others. After all, Noreen, who was nearly a year older than herself, had suggested there was some mystery going; and though she had said it half jokingly, it might be true all the same. She must put up with the duller drive, and not even ask if Noreen and Gabrielle might come with her to Mote; it was quite clear they would not want to. Joey gave herself a little shake and marched up to Miss Conyngham's door.
"Please, Cousin Greta asked me to lunch to-day, at least John spoke, and they'll send and take me to the match afterwards, if it's all right," she said.
Miss Conyngham was very busy, and hardly looked up. Joey half hoped she would say "Why do they want you?" and then she would have explained about the signalling, and the Head might have said it did not matter. As it was, she only glanced up from her papers for the fraction of a second.
"Yes, you will enjoy that, Jocelyn. Get ready in good time; don't keep your cousin waiting. That will do."