Alfy’s tears were dried, her face smiling, as she now interrupted:
“No. I’ve changed my mind. I’m either going to be a trained nurse or a singer in an opera. Premer donners, they call ’em.”
“Heigho! Why all that?”
Alfaretta dropped her voice to a whisper and cautiously glanced over her shoulder as she explained:
“Greatorex!”
“Miss Greatorex? What has that poor, learned dear to do with it?” demanded Dorothy, astonished.
“Everything. You see, she’s the first woman teacher I ever saw—the first woman one. Rather than grow into such a stiff, can’t-bend-to-save-your-life kind of person I’d do ’most anything. Hark! There’s somebody to the door!”
Both girls sprang to open it and found a maid with a summons to breakfast; also with the request that “Miss Dorothy should attend Mrs. Calvert in her own room before going below stairs.”
Dorothy sped away but Alfaretta lingered to put the cardinal flowers into a vase and to admire afresh the beautiful apartment assigned to her friend.
There was honest pleasure in the good fortune which had come to another and yet there was a little envy mingled with the pleasure. It was with a rather vicious little shake that she picked up the soft bath-robe Dorothy had discarded and folded it about her own shoulders; but the reflection of her own face in the mirror opposite so surprised her by its crossness that she stared, then laughed aloud.