"Not one," was the answer.
"Oh, well," said Eleanor, clearly and distinctly, "of course I can always follow Genevieve's example and write one to myself, a printed one, I mean; but no, on second thoughts I don't believe I shall, they are rather horrid things, don't you think?" And she walked quietly away.
For days afterwards at mail-time Jane, who loved to ride a joke—"till it died of sheer exhaustion," as Peggy said—could always raise a laugh at Genevieve's expense. "Any a-non-y-mous letters for me?" she would inquire plaintively. "No? I really must see about it. I suppose I must attend to it myself."
CHAPTER XI
FRIENDS
Easter examinations, although a month away, were already looming darkly on the horizon and Judith settled down to a long and hard pull.
"So much to learn and so little time," she groaned to Nancy. "I'd like to spend all my time on my essay for Miss Marlowe, but there are French and geometry tests next week, which need every minute of study time I have. Why can't the days be forty hours long?"
However, most of the school thought the days quite long enough, and in fact some happy souls had already counted up the number of hours until the holidays began and were ticking them off with great glee.
Judith's delight in lesson hours was steadily increasing. Even in mathematics classes which she disliked, she was beginning to feel the joy of triumphing over difficulties, and she looked forward to her literature lessons as the happiest hours of the week. Loving Nancy as she did, Judith was always trying to share her enjoyment of some beautiful lines of poetry or an interesting scene in the play they were studying, and not always with pronounced success. Nancy's mind was of a practical turn; she was very lukewarm about poetry.