"As you please, child. If you prefer Agnes you can go and search for her."
"No, no, I don't," said Agnes, who wouldn't hurt a fly if she could help it. "I will go for a walk with you, Miss Merriman."
"Lucy, if you please," said Lucy. "We are both school-fellows, are we not?"
"Only I feel so very small, and so very nothing at all beside you," replied Agnes.
"But you are a good deal beside me. It is true you are small; but how old are you?"
"I was eleven my last birthday. I am two years younger than dear Irene; but Irene says that I am ten years older than she is in some ways."
"Twenty—thirty—forty, I should say," remarked Lucy, with a laugh. "Well, come along; let's have a good time. What shall we do?"
"Whatever you like—Lucy," said the little girl, making a pause before she ventured on the Christian name.
"That's right. I am glad you called me Lucy. We all like you, little Agnes; and it isn't in every school where the sister of one of the governesses would be tolerated as you are tolerated here."
"I don't quite understand what you mean by that."