"I am glad you think I have a little talent," said Bertha, in a modest voice.
"But it is a great deal more. Have you ever written stories?"
"A few; but I have never published any."
"Some day you will write a great book, a book that will live. You will be a second Currer Bell."
"Ah, how I adore 'Jane Eyre,'" said Bertha, in a low, intense voice. "Currer Bell has a great soul; she lifts the curtain, she reveals to you her heart."
"I wish I could read 'Jane Eyre' again," said Florence. "I read it once when I was at home for the holidays, but Mrs. Clavering does not approve of novels."
"Mrs. Clavering is a little old-fashioned. Let us walk quickly, Florence. Do you know that I write poetry, too?"
"Oh, then you are a tremendous genius."
"I have a little talent," replied Bertha once more; "but now, Florence, I have a suggestion to offer."
There was something in her tone which caused Florence's heart to beat; she seemed to guess all of a sudden what was coming.