"What!" I cried, "don't you respect me?"
She laughed gaily.
"No!" she cried, then she added seriously: "But I'd like to be at your
schule."
She returns to Dundee to-morrow, to a class of fifty, where silence
reigns. Poor Nellie! What worries me is that when Nellie's teacher
reads this book she will most probably agree with Nellie's remark that
I'm "daft". But she won't mean what Nellie meant.
A telegraph girl approached.
"Machines are waiting.--Jenkins."
Nellie looked anxious.
"That's twa telegrams ye've got the day," she said. "Is onybody deid?"