"Your Highness does me too much honor," he replied solemnly; and they both laughed from sheer high spirits. "No, Sally, you're wrong," he added. "The old gentleman was no relative of mine. But I believe I interrupted you. What were you going to say—right first off, you know, when I asked you not to call me Jane?"
"I was going to tell you that Dick Torrington has asked me to go up for his Class Day."
"Dick Torrington!" exclaimed Jane, mystified. "Why, Sally, he's ever so much older than you."
"Now, Jane, what has—I beg your pardon,—Eugene, but it's hard to remember. But, Eugene, what has the difference in age to do with it? It has never seemed to make any difference to Dick. You know that he's as kind as he can be and probably he just thought that I would enjoy it."
They had passed through the crowded corridor—crowded because, in one of the rooms on that floor, there was in preparation what the papers would call a modest collation—and they were out in the yard. Jane stopped short and looked at Sally with a puzzled expression.
"I wonder, Sally," he said slowly, "if you know—but you evidently don't," he added. He seemed relieved at the result of his inspection. "Of course you'll go, but I can't help wishing you wouldn't."
"Why?" she asked. "I mean to go if I can. Why would you rather I wouldn't?"
He hesitated for some moments. "I don't know that I can tell you. Perhaps you'll understand sometime. Hello! What do you suppose they've got?"
Ollie Pilcher and the Carlings passed rapidly across their line of vision.
"Furtive sort of manner," continued Jane hurriedly. "I'll bet they're hiding something. Let's see what it is. What do you say, Sally?"