"It is nothing," she said, faintly. "I do not often get weak, like this. Thank you!"
She had gone to the window, as if for air, and Charley had sprung forward and opened it.
"Does the air revive you, or shall I fetch you some more water?" inquired Charley, with a face full of concern.
"Oh, no! indeed, it is nothing. I am quite well now."
"You don't look like it," said Miss Jo; "you are as white as a sheet yet. Don't you go near that school to-day, mind."
Miss Rose essayed a smile.
"The school will do me no harm, Miss Blake—thank you for your kindness all the same."
Miss Jo shook her head.
"You ain't fit for it, and that you'll find. Are you off, Charley?"
"Very hard, isn't it, Miss Jo?" said Charley, drawing on his gloves. "But I must tear myself away. Old Pestle and Mortar will be fit to bastinado me for staying till this time of day."