'I hope we shall, then. Is it very far from you?' inquired Vava.
No; it's—it's quite near. But, you know, in London one need not know one's next-door neighbour unless one likes. We never said anything more than "Good-morning!" to the people we lived next door to for three years. Mother is not one of those who is always talking over the wall to her neighbour; so you need not be afraid of that,' observed Doreen.
'But we don't mind knowing our next-door neighbour; in fact, we shall know him, because he is our landlord, and a very honest, nice man, the agent says; not educated'——
'Vava, was that the bell?' interrupted Doreen abruptly.
Doreen's manners were certainly very bad, and Vava said severely, 'You are rude, Doreen, and if I did not know you I should think you took no interest in our new house.'
'I do, and I hope very much you will come to Heather Road; I know you will like it and be happy there.'
'Where do you live? We may pass your house to-morrow, because we are going to Heather Road to look at this house, and I will look out for you in case you are at the window,' said Vava.
To Vava's astonishment, Doreen did not answer her, but appeared not to have heard, and called out in her loud way to two girls who were on the other side of the road. It took a good deal to offend Vava, but this morning she felt decidedly ruffled; and as she did not particularly care for the new-comers, she walked on alone in a slightly aggrieved mood.
But Doreen seemed quite unconscious of having given offence in the morning, and was more attentive and friendly than usual to Vava as they walked down the road after school. When she said good-bye to her at the Metropolitan Station she called after her, 'I say, I do hope you'll come to Heather Road; you'll like it awfully, I know.'
But when Vava turned round to reply, no Doreen was to be seen; she had disappeared into the station. Vava, recounting the tale to her sister, observed, 'She has such bad manners, but she doesn't mean it.'