XVIIIThe next day, after lessons, Mrs. Grose found a momentto say tome quietly: “Have you written, miss?”
“Yes—I’ve written.” But I didn’tadd—for the hour—that my letter, sealed and directed,was still in my pocket. There would be time enough to send itbefore the messenger should go to the village. Meanwhile there hadbeen, on the part of my pupils, no more brilliant, more exemplarymorning. It was exactly as if they had both had at heart to glossover any recent little friction. They performed the dizziest featsof arithmetic, soaring quite out of MY feeble range, andperpetrated, in higher spirits than ever, geographical andhistorical jokes. It was conspicuous of course in Miles inparticular that he appeared to wish to show how easily he could letme down. This child, to my memory, really live
