“Oh, you don’t think at all!” said Harriet in a fretful tone. “If, instead of romping and joking and laughing all day with that silly Vivian or Rose or any of the other girls, you were to put on your considering cap, you would soon find a way to earn your five pounds.”
“I want it most dreadfully,” said Jane: “but please tell me how I am to earn it, Harriet. What is it you want me to do?”
“Well, I tell you what I want you to do. I want you to do; two things. To prove in some sort of fashion to Mr Durrant that Robina is deceitful—yes, that is it, deceitful; he thinks more of truth than of anything under the sun—and that I am exceedingly brave, and exceedingly noble. I gave Ralph the hint to tell his father that I was both brave and noble—you know all about that as far as is connected with the pond. Well, what do you think Mr Durrant has said? He says that if Ralph can prove his words, he will elect me as the school-mother. The deed will be done. There will be no getting out of it; but it has got to be proved—how? I leave you, Jane, to find out a way.”
“Oh, it isn’t so easy,” said Poor Jane.
“You want your five pounds, don’t you?” said Harriet, with a sneer.
“Yes, I want it awfully. I heard from Bobbie and Miriam this morning and—”
“I don’t want to hear about those tiresome children. Now let us come to the boat; they are calling us: don’t you hear them?”