an eager light in her eyes; "but would Sister Agnes approve of my going
to such a place?"

"I scarcely think, poverina, that Sister Agnes would disapprove of any
place to which I might choose to take you."

"Forgive me!" cried Janet; "I did not intend you to construe my words in
that way."

"I have never construed anything since I was at school fifty years ago,"
answered the Major, laughingly. "Can you tell me now from your heart,
little one, that you would not like to go to the play?"

"I should like very, very much to go, and after what has been said I
will never forgive you if you do not take me."

"The penalty would be too severe. It is agreed that we shall go."

"To me it seems only seven days instead of seven years since I was last
driven through London streets," resumed Janet, as they were crawling up
Fleet Street. "The same shops, the same houses, and even, as it seems to
me, the same people crowding the pathways; and, to complete the
illusion, the same kind travelling companion now as then."

"To me the illusion seems by no means so complete. To London Bridge,
seven years ago, I took a simple child of twelve: to-day I bring back a
young lady of nineteen--a woman, in point of fact--who, I have no doubt,
understands more of flirtation than she does of French, and would rather
graduate in coquetry than in crochet-work."