The girls looked at each other. Carry's eyes flushed with tears; but Sophy clenched her sharp white teeth, and said something under her breath. All the same, she was as hungry as a young wolf. Both the girls, in fact, were blessed with fine, healthy appetites, which they took care to indulge on every possible occasion; and now their appetites cried out in a way that it was almost impossible to resist.
Candles were lighted, and the afternoon wore itself wearily on till tea-time came round. Anxious eyes were turned on Miss Deane. Surely she would go down to tea; if not, what could she be made of? But no, Miss Deane merely changed one book for another, and went on with her reading, totally unconcerned.
Carry snivelled a little in secret, but Sophy looked as fierce as a young brigand. Presently Sophy wrote a little note, and flung it across to her sister. "If she doesn't let us out soon, I'll kill her and roast her for supper."
This made poor Carry tremble violently. She fully believed in her sister's ability to carry out her terrible threat. And so another wretched hour doled itself wearily out.
Sophy's wolf was becoming very ravenous indeed. She saw clearly that her enemy was too strong for her. By-and-by she tossed a scrap of paper to her sister, on which she had written the words: "It's no use. She carries too many guns for us"--this was a favourite phrase of her father. "I'm going to learn my task, and I advise you to do the same."
Three-quarters of an hour later, Sophy walked up to Miss Deane and held out her book in silence. Then she went through her task without a single mistake. She took back the book, made Miss Deane an elaborate curtsey, and marched out of the room with the dignified air of a young duchess.
Carry did not manage so well. She broke down when about half-way through, and burst into tears. Olive quietly shut the book, drew the girl to her and kissed her, and then bade her run off and get some supper.
From that day forth, Miss Deane and her pupils were on the best possible terms.