"There are Olive and Elsa," she said, delightedly; and then she added, persuasively, "Oh! mumsie, do you think they might come to tea with us to-day?"
"Not to-day, darling, I think, because you have all your lessons to do, and there is scarcely time for them to go home and get permission, now. But they might come on Saturday," she added, as Amethyst looked very doleful. "Let us speak to them."
"How do you do, dears?" was Mrs. Drury's bright greeting, as she shook hands with the twins. "How is your mother to-day?"
"Father thinks she is a little better, thank you, Mrs. Drury." It was Elsa who spoke; Olive always deputed her sister to give the latest bulletins of her mother's health.
"I am glad to hear that," said Mrs. Drury warmly; "will you give her my love, and tell her I hope to come and see her very soon? Meanwhile, Amethyst and I are wondering whether she would allow you both to come to tea next Saturday."
"Oh! thank you very much, Mrs. Drury, we shall be delighted to come," said Olive, a ring of pleasure in her tones; they always enjoyed themselves at St. Paul's Vicarage.
"I think we had better just ask first," ventured Elsa, "although I feel sure mother will be very pleased."
"Quite right, dear," said Mrs. Drury, looking approvingly at Elsa, so that she did not see Olive shrug her shoulders disdainfully. "Come early in the afternoon, if you may, so that you and Amethyst can have some fun together in the garden. I hear you have all been moved up," she added, as they began to separate.
"Yes, an awful nuisance, I call it," said Olive; "we shall have no end of home-work to do now. That algebra we did this morning is stupid stuff, isn't it, Thistle? All silly little letters and numbers that don't seem to mean anything. I couldn't make head or tail of it."
"I rather liked it," said Amethyst.