She was startled, therefore, when Cicely herself, who was always supposed to be much calmer than Merry, and less vehement in her desires, clasped her sister’s hand and said with emphasis, “I don’t know, after all, if it is good for us to see too much of Maggie Howland.”
“Why, Cissie? What do you mean?”
“I mean this,” said Cicely: “she makes me—yes, I will say it—discontented.”
“And me too,” said Merry, uttering the words with an emphasis which astonished herself.
“We have talked of school over and over again,” said 45 Cicely, “with Molly and Belle; but notwithstanding their glowing accounts we have been quite satisfied with Miss Beverley, and dear, gray-haired Mr. Bennett, and Mr. Vaughan; but now I for one, don’t feel satisfied any longer.” “Nor do I,” said Merry.
“Oh Merry!”
“It is true,” said Merry. “I want to go to Aylmer House.”
“And I am almost mad to go there,” said Cicely.
“I’ll tell you something, Cissie. I spoke to father about it to-day.”
“Merry! you didn’t dare?”