“Miss Remsted told her to bring her her best sketch,” she continued. “Now, Prue had never made a sketch in her life, but she reckoned it would be easy enough.”
“Prue’s a futurist,” Gwen interrupted.
“So she about made up her mind to draw an animal. What made you choose something that was living, Prue? I never did understand.”
“Then you never will, because I’m not going to tell you,” Prue replied airily.
“Oh, but I am,” Ann smiled reminiscently. “The day before she did the sketch she came to me and asked me if a great many artists hadn’t made their start by drawing pictures of animals. I thought for a minute and then——”
“To show off the knowledge that you haven’t got”—Gladys took up the story—“you casually mentioned Rosa Bonheur, and Prue went straight to her desk and——” She turned to Poppy.
“Drew—I mean sketched—the gardener’s watch dog,” Poppy went on. “He was a nice dog, but not very sketchable. You all know how dogs will jump ’round, so you can’t blame Prue for what happened. She finished the sketch and took it to Miss Remsted.”
“I did not, I left it for her in the studio,” Prue corrected.
“Left it; excuse me, I stand corrected,” Poppy continued. “History does not repeat just what Miss Remsted said or did, but when Prue went to her desk next morning she found her dog with this little note pinned to his tail—not literally, you understand, but figuratively: ‘Prue, dear; it’s a very nice little rabbit, but it’s a pity he has the mumps.’”
The laugh that followed was led by Prue. The twins exchanged glances. They were both thinking how very differently some of the girls at Miss Harding’s would have taken such teasing.