"Please, Gabrielle and Noreen."
Miss Conyngham smiled. "Very well. Are you three friends?"
Joey had become a good deal more certain since Cousin Greta asked that question.
"Rather, Miss Conyngham."
"I am glad to hear that. Gabrielle is a very good sort of friend to have, Jocelyn."
"And Noreen is a frightfully exciting one," Joey explained—and then remembered in time it would be better not to explain why.
She discovered that she had gone up in the opinion of the Lower School now that Miss Conyngham had actually picked her out to meet Miss Craigie. The mathematical mistress had many adorers, it appeared—and meeting trains could only be done by very special permission.
Ingrid Latimer herself accosted Joey in the mid-morning interval, demanding what she meant by going.
"I suppose Miss Conyngham thought I should like it," Joey said, slightly flustered by the question from one so great as the Senior Prefect.
"Rubbish! As though the Head would stop to think about that," Ingrid answered crushingly. "Think again, Kid. Is she an aunt of yours by any chance?"