But at this poor Miss Greenall looked up with frightened eyes. She was a pretty fair girl, small and delicate-looking.
“Oh, please, please,” she entreated, “do not tell them I have complained. I could not go on if they knew it. I will try again and be a little firmer with them, if only, only you will say nothing.”
And, though against her own convictions, Mrs Fortescue had to agree to what Miss Greenall asked.
And for a few days things were better. The little girls had been startled by the sight of the tears which the poor governess had not been able to repress—startled and shamed. Nor had Jasper’s face of shocked surprise lessened the impression.
He was no tell-tale, but still—
“Japs,” said Chrissie, the first time they were alone together, “I’m sorry we made that silly Miss Green—what’s-her-name—cry, and so’s Lell. We were half joking, you know.”
The child looked at her with his solemn blue eyes, and Christabel felt herself blushing. She was naturally truthful.
“At least,” she went on, “we didn’t mean her to take it like that. She might have seemed to think it a joke. But we don’t want Mummy to hear about it. Things sound worse when they’re tell-taled.”
“I’se not a tell-tale,” said Jasper stoutly.
“Well, well—I didn’t say you were. And I promise that we won’t say those things again, as she minds them so, silly that she is.”