ight. Miss Wharton did not seem
quite so ready when I spoke to her. I suppose upon reflection her Scotch
caution came to the fore, and indeed I am half-frightened myself; but
their gratitude at our being so friendly was reward enough for running a
little risk, and we are not pledged to anything even now,' she wound up.

'Oh but you mustn't draw back; you are really doing a kind deed, and it
will turn out splendidly, you will see!' cried Eva quickly.

Vava meanwhile walked home with her sister in the gayest of spirits, and
yet a doubt would keep coming into her mind. Hadn't Eva rather managed
them all, and hadn't she rather twisted what she (Vava) had said? Then
the remembrance of Eva's affectionate parting made her ashamed of her
doubts, and she banished them from her mind.

'Anyway, we sha'n't get tired of them, for we have spent a whole day
doing nothing but talk to each other, and if you can do that you can
spend your whole life with any one nearly; at any rate, you can live in
the same house, especially when you are all out in separate parts all
the day,' opined Vava.

'We can but try; and, at any rate, it is not settled, and I shall do
nothing without consulting Mr. Stacey,' declared Stella as they said
good-night to each other.

CHAPTER XI.

'THE RANK IS BUT THE GUINEA'S STAMP.'

'Hallo, Vava!' said a voice behind her, as Vava Wharton was on her way
to school a few days after the Sunday she and her sister had spent at
the ladies' hostel.

There was no doubt as to the speaker, for this was Doreen Hackney's
invariable greeting, and, as usual, Vava turned and said pleasantly,
'Good-morning, Doreen.'

'What's the row--matter, I mean? You look down in the dumps. I say, are
you moping for the country? You don't seem to be half the girl you were
when you first came; you don't make any jokes, and when I meet you in
the morning you have a face as long as a fiddle,' remarked Doreen in her
loud, cheerful tones.

'I was only thinking. I didn't know my face was long. We are thinking of
moving--into a house, my sister and I--and I was thinking about that,
and I suppose it made me look grave,' explained Vava.

'What on earth is there to be grave about in that? You haven't got
anything to do with the moving, have you? We moved last year, and it
didn't make me grave till mother said I'd got to burn some of what she
called my "rubbish." I think it's rather fun moving; you have all new
wall-papers and a new gar