“Now, please—please, Brenda!” said Nina, catching her governess by the sleeve the moment the door had closed behind the rector. “That letter—we want to know all about it.”
“Yes, of course we do,” said Josephine.
“Out with the news!” exclaimed Fanchon.
“There isn’t a great deal of news to relate,” replied Brenda. “I am invited to spend the eighth of July with my dear sister at that celebrated school, Hazlitt Chase. She has simply written me an itinerary of trains. I fear I shall have to leave here very early in the morning, and you—my dear petites—will be deprived of your governess for the entire day, for I shall not be home until midnight.”
“Oh dear!” cried Nina. “We thought you were going to spend the night away!”
She looked slightly disappointed and glanced at her sisters.
“Any little fun on?” asked Brenda, interpreting the glances between the three according to her own sweet will.
“No, no—nothing in particular—nothing at all in particular; only we thought you would have so much to tell us when you came back again.”
“I shall have a good deal to tell you. Do you know; that my wonderful young sister is to be Helen of Troy?”
“Whoever is she?” yawned Fanchon.