Miss Cass could hardly believe her ears. For the tone, beyond the shadow of a doubt, was quite serious. “I don’t know any one at Clavering Park and I don’t suppose any one knows you.”
“But——” pleaded Miss Cass.
Elfreda was not in a mood for “buts.” The wicked Genie now had her firmly in its grip. So simple, yet so radiant was the idea that already it was glowing with the colors of destiny. There were obstacles, of course, but a dynamic will could remove them.
“In size we are much of a muchness, aren’t we? So you can take my things and I’ll take yours.”
“Oh, but——” faltered Miss Cass.
“You might have quite an amusing fortnight”—Pikey, who had been traveling all through the long night was sleeping very comfortably now—“One hears the place will be full of new people. With a bit of luck ... if you really play up ... you might even....” ... Get one of them to marry you!—was the thought in the mind of the abandoned Elfreda. But the Bottle Imp had not quite bereft her of a sense of shame, therefore she did not complete her sentence by mere words. She had recourse to wireless telegraphy, which, however, was just as effective.
Miss Cass felt herself to be growing dizzy.
“That’s what happens in the play, you know. The son of the house falls in love with the governess——”
“Oh—but,” gasped Miss Cass. And yet if the truth must be told the wicked Genie was now beginning to stir in her, also. A voice was heard in the subliminal self of Miss Cass. There is a tide in the affairs of men which taken at the flood leads on to fortune.
“It needs a little pluck, of course.” The light in the blue eyes was almost sinister. “But it might be rather amusing, don’t you think?”