and she might have said more, had not her sister
prevented her doing so.

'Anyway,' she said, 'we need not say any more about it just now.'

After tea they got out their lesson-books, anxious to do all they could,
so as to wake on Saturday morning with the delightful sensation of a
real whole holiday. But their long walk, perhaps the excitement of their
adventure, had tired them. Lessons, with Frances especially, seemed more
difficult than usual, and after a good many yawns and not a few groans,
she decided that it was no use to attempt anything calling for a 'clear
head' that evening.

'I'll just copy out my dictation and exercises,' she said, 'and do all
the fresh learning to-morrow morning. Won't you do so too, Jass, for
there are two or three things we can learn together?'

'Very well,' said Jacinth, though with a little sigh, 'perhaps it would
be better.'

It was not only that she was tired--her head was full of Robin Redbreast
and its owner, and all manner of fancies and castles in the air were
crowding upon her. It was really so romantic, she thought; it was not
silly to picture to herself the delightful possibilities of the future.

'Suppose Lady Myrtle really gets very fond of us'--she said 'us,' but
'_me_' would perhaps have been more correct, and after all this was
scarcely unnatural, as it was she who had specially recalled the Jacinth
Moreland of her enthusiastic youthful affection to the old
lady--'supposing she in a sort of way adopted us--or me'--for Jacinth
was not selfish in the common acceptation of the word, though
self-important and fond of ruling, 'what happiness it might bring us!
She doesn't seem to have any relations, and she must be very well off.
Supposing she took us to live with her, and treated us just like her own
children, I wonder if mamma wouldn't come home then, and papa too
perhaps. For of course, if they knew we were going to be well off, papa
wouldn't worry so about staying out in India his full time and all that.
How I should _love_ to be the one to be able to do everything for them
all.'

Still it would not do to begin speculating on what might happen in the
far future when--Jacinth felt shocked when she realised that, in
picturing herself as Lady Myrtle's possible heir, she was anticipating
the old lady's death; yet she certainly could not 'fit in' the idea of
their all living together at Robin Redbreast with its present
chatelaine. And she laughed at her own absurdity.