“Very often, indeed, at this school,” said Olive with a chuckle.
“Well, I, for one, shall be delighted to go out,” said Betty.
“Then you must run upstairs and get your hats and your gloves,” said Fanny, who seemed, for some extraordinary reason, to wish to make her cousins uncomfortable.
Betty looked at her very fiercely for a minute; then she beckoned to her sisters, and the three left the room in their usual fashion—each girl holding the hand of another.
“Fan,” said Olive the moment the door had closed behind them, “you don’t like the Vivians! I see it in your face.”
“I never said so,” replied Fanny.
“Oh, Fan, dear—not with the lips, of course; but the eyes have spoken volumes. Now, I think they are great fun; they’re so uncommon.”
“I have never said I didn’t like them,” repeated Fanny, “and you will never get me to say it. They are my cousins, and of course I’ll have to look after them a bit; but I think before they are a month at the school you will agree with me in my opinion with regard to them.”
“How can we agree in an opinion we know nothing about?” said Margaret Grant.
Fanny looked at her, and Fanny’s eyes could flash in a very significant manner at times.