'I am so happy to think you are coming to Kingthorpe! It is the dearest old place. We shall be so happy!'
'It will not be your fault if we are not, darling,' said Ida, looking tenderly at the loving face, uplifted to hers. 'Well, I have written to my father to ask him for five pounds, and if he sends the five pounds I will go to Kingthorpe. If not, I must invent an excuse—mumps, or measles, or something—for staying away. Or I must behave so badly for the last week of the term that old Pew will revoke her sanction of the intended visit. I cannot come to Kingthorpe quite out at elbows.'
'You look lovely even in the gown you have on,' said Bessie.
'I don't know anything about my loveliness, but I know that this gown is absolutely threadbare.'
Bessie sighed despondently. She knew her friend's resolute temper, and that any offer of clothes or money from her would be worse than useless. It would make Ida angry.
'What kind of man is your father, darling?' she asked, thoughtfully.
'Very good-natured.'
'Ah! Then he will send the five pounds.'
'Very weak.'
'Ah! Then he may change his mind about it.'