“Run along with you then, all of you. Clare, be over in time.”
“Yes, sir,” cried Clare. “Oh, thank you, Mr. King, ever so much!” as they all scampered off to get their lessons for the next day; for going to a play was always a special treat, on condition that no studies were neglected.
“Oh, Cathie,” cried Polly, before she flew into the window-seat to curl up with her books, her favorite place for studying her lessons, “Grandpapa is taking us to the play because you are here.”
“And I've never been to a play, Polly,” said Cathie, perfectly overwhelmed with it all.
“Haven't you? Oh, I'm so glad—I mean, I'm glad you're going with us, and that Grandpapa is to take you to the first one. But, oh me!” and Polly rushed off to attack her books. “Now, don't let us speak a single word, Cathie Harrison,” as Cathie picked out a low rocker for her choice of a seat; and pretty soon, if Miss Salisbury herself had come into the room, she would have been perfectly satisfied with the diligent attention the books were receiving.
But Miss Salisbury was not thinking of her pupils this afternoon. She was at this moment closeted with Miss Anstice, and going over a conversation that they frequently held, these past days, without much variation in the subject or treatment.
“If there were anything we could do to repay him, sister,” said Miss Anstice mournfully, “I'd do it, and spend my last cent. But what is there?” Then she paced the floor with her mincing little steps, now quite nervous and flurried.
“Sister,” said Miss Salisbury, doing her best to be quite calm, “it isn't a matter of payment; for whatever we did, we never could hope to replace that exquisite little vase. Miss Clemcy had pointed out to me the fact that it was quite the gem in his collection.”
“I know; I thought my heart would stop when I heard the crash.” Miss Anstice wrung her little hands together at the memory. “Oh, that careless Lily!”