"How many times?"
But Rotha was getting amused now, and was mistress of the situation.
"Does it matter how many times?" she said quite unexcitedly.
"He never took me anywhere," said Antoinette. "I declare, I'll make him. It isn't using me well. What makes you call him Mr. Digby?"
"I have been accustomed to call him so."
"Did he tell you to?"
"Yes."
"I wonder if he'd let me? I don't believe mamma would, though. She won't let you either do it any more. Digby is Mr. Southwode's first name. She would say it was too familiar, to call him by his first name, even with a 'Mr.' to it. Mamma's a little poky at times. But how did you come to know him first? you haven't told me."
"I suppose, the same way you came to know him," said Rotha slowly.
But the suggestion of anything similar in what concerned the social circumstances of her and her cousin, struck Antoinette with such a sense of novelty that, for a moment she was nonplussed. Then her eye fell upon the clock on the mantel-piece, and she started up.
"I must rush right off," she said; "it is time for my drawing lesson.
That's one thing I don't get in school. Have you ever been to school?"