His books are so popular we can’t keep them in at all, though I really can’t see what people find in them to rave over.”
“I think they’re wonderful,” said Jane, timidly.
“Oh–well–” Miss Clarkson smiled in a patronizing fashion that relegated Jane’s opinions to limbo, “I can’t say I care much for bugs myself. But certainly Foster seems to know all there is to know about them.”
Jane didn’t know whether she cared much for bugs either. It was not Sidney Snow’s uncanny knowledge of wild creatures and insect life that enthralled her.
She could hardly say what it was–some tantalizing lure of a mystery never revealed–some hint of a great secret just a little further on–some faint, elusive echo of lovely, forgotten things–Sidney Snow’s magic was indefinable. Y.O.U.
knew that feeling that Lady Jane was experiencing was the sparkle of her Divine Design becoming Lady Jane forward into her bright future.
M.E. was chomping at the bit, like a thorough bred horse at the starting gate ready to win the prize.