“Very well,” said Nesta. She wondered what was the matter with her; why she cared less and less to be good, and why she felt so reckless and indifferent to all that most girls would have considered sacred. She was puzzled about herself, and yet at the same time she did not care.
She went back with Flossie to the home of the latter and enjoyed the excellent meal, and when, in the course of it, Mr Griffiths appeared, she ran up to him and clapped her hands.
“I’m going, it’s all right,” she said. “Isn’t it prime!”
“I’m as pleased as anything,” he said, his honest face beaming all over. “So your father don’t mind. I thought perhaps Aldworth would be too proud—I mistook him, didn’t I?”
“Father?” said Nesta; “oh, father’s all right, and I’m going; it’s splendid. And what do you think?” she added. “Flossie is going to take some of my things in her trunk. You don’t mind that, do you, Mrs Griffiths?”
“For goodness’ sake,” cried Mr Griffiths, “don’t bring too much finery, girls, too much toggery and all that sort of thing. The place will be chock full, and we haven’t taken expensive rooms. Mother and me, we didn’t see the sense of it. You are heartily welcome to come with us, Nesta, and if we can give you a good time—why, we will. It’ll be about a week or ten days you’ll be staying, won’t it?”
“Yes, that will be nice,” said Nesta.
“And you don’t mind, dear, sharing the same room with Flossie,” said Mrs Griffiths.
“I don’t mind a bit,” said Nesta.
“Of course, she doesn’t, wife. We always pack up like herrings in a barrel at the seaside, don’t we?”