She had known Clementine the best of the Greengrasses previously (which did not say much, really, because they had been fellow Hufflepuffs more than bosom friends) but Jemima had seen startlingly little of her in the last few days. She wasn’t sure what to make of that. Should it be a relief, or did it make things more concerning?
But she had been civil thus far (for all of ten seconds), so that was – good. Maybe. Jemima tried not to flush at your house. “Well, yes, but – you have lived in it longer,” she returned, just as lamely. “And I don’t want to be in your way. I’m still finding my way around.” She had said so with a peaceable smile, but she regretted it, for it wasn’t a particularly clever statement: not funny enough to be a joke, and (as Ford had technically warned her) the Bartonburg house was hardly big enough for that to be true unless one was very directionally challenged.
But she had been civil thus far (for all of ten seconds), so that was – good. Maybe. Jemima tried not to flush at your house. “Well, yes, but – you have lived in it longer,” she returned, just as lamely. “And I don’t want to be in your way. I’m still finding my way around.” She had said so with a peaceable smile, but she regretted it, for it wasn’t a particularly clever statement: not funny enough to be a joke, and (as Ford had technically warned her) the Bartonburg house was hardly big enough for that to be true unless one was very directionally challenged.
