Groans followed from Harry and Wally.
“What do you want to remind a fellow for?”
“Couldn’t help it—slipped out. What a jolly sell not to see old Dad again!” Jim wrinkled his brown handsome face into a frown.
“You needn’t talk!” said Norah gloomily. “Fancy me on Monday—not a soul to speak to.”
“Poor old Norah—yes, it’s rough on you,” said Jim. “Wish you were coming too. Why can’t you get Dad to let you go to school in Melbourne?”
“Thanks,” said Norah hastily, “I’d rather not. I think I can bear this better. School! What on earth would I do with myself, shut up all day?”
“Oh, all right; I thought you might like it. You get used to it, you know.”
“I couldn’t get used to doing without Dad,” returned Norah.
“Or Dad to doing without you, I reckon,” said Jim. “Oh, I suppose it’s better as it is—only you’ll have to get taught some day, old chap, I suppose.”
“Oh, never mind that now,” Norah said impatiently. “I suppose I’ll have a governess some day, and she won’t let me ride astride, or go after the cattle, or climb trees, or do anything worth doing, and everything will be perfectly hateful. It’s simply beastly to be getting old!”