'I was going to the garden,' she said, pointing in that direction. 'I have lessons there with Emily Hood. Beastly shame that I should have to do lessons, isn't it? I feel too old for that; I've got other things to think about.'
She put her head on one side, and rustled the pages of a French grammar, at last throwing a glance at Richard from the corners of her eyes.
'But do you expect Miss Hood to come soon?' Dagworthy asked, playing his part very well, in spite of a nervousness which possessed him.
'No doubt she's in the garden already. I've given her a key, so that if she gets there first—But what do you want me to do?'
'Why, I was going to ask you to walk to the station and meet the ten thirty-five train from Hebsworth. Your father will get in by it, I expect, and I want him to come and see me at once at the mill.'
'All right,' Jessie exclaimed with eagerness, 'I'll go. Just let me run and tell Emily—'
Dagworthy was consulting his watch.
'You've only bare time to get to the station, walking as quickly as you can? Which is your garden? Let me go and tell her you are not coming.'
'Will you? The second door round the corner there, You'll have to apologize properly—I hope you know how to.'
This was Jessie's maidenly playfulness; she held out her hand, with many graces, to take leave.