At this stage in the cure of her complexion the governess’s lameness diminished perceptibly, and Lady Jane’s sympathetic maid was sure that the misshapen shoulder was less apparent than before.
“If this goes on,” said Evelyn to her sister in the privacy of their own room, “she won’t stay long.”
“She says the air’s good for her,” answered Gwendolen cheerfully. “I saw Claude staring at her yesterday. He had such a funny look.”
“I know,” answered Evelyn wisely. “That’s always what they call the beginning of the end. I hope we shall have as long a holiday as last time.”
“We’ll have some jolly fishing,” said Gwendolen. “I’ll bet there are heaps of worms in the old corner by the rose bush now, for we haven’t disturbed them for a long time.”
“There are heaps of things I want to do,” rejoined the elder girl in a musing tone. “The men are quite right, you know: fishing with worms isn’t at all sporting. The real thing is a fly.”
“But we’ve got no tackle for that,” objected the junior partner. “I don’t see what we can do.”
“We’ll cabbage it.”
This well-known method of obtaining supplies of all sorts was familiar to Gwendolen, and she nodded gravely.
“There’s another thing I must do,” she said.