Had she but known it, however, she was not altogether just to Alwynne. The first hours of reunion did certainly drive her aunt out of Alwynne's mind, but after a couple of days she was ready to remind herself and Clare that Elsbeth, too, had some claim on her time. It is possible, however, that had she been happier, she would have been less readily scrupulous. Clare had certainly been glad to see her, had, for an hour or two, been entirely delightful. But with the resumption of their mutual life Clare was not long in falling back into her old bad ways, and in revenge for her two months' boredom, in sheer teasing high spirits at Alwynne's return, as well as in unreasoning, petulant jealousy, led Alwynne a pretty enough dance. For Clare was jealous, jealous of these eight weeks of Alwynne's youth that did not belong to her, and between her jealousy and her own contempt for her jealousy, was in one of the moods that she and Alwynne alike dreaded.
The mornings at the school came as a relief to them both, but no sooner were they together again than Clare's pricking devil must out. Scenes were incessant—wanton, childish scenes. Yet Alwynne, sore and bewildered as she was by Clare's waxing unreasonableness, was yet not proof against the sudden surrenders that always contrived to put her in the wrong. She would repeat to herself that it must be she who was unreasonable, that she should be flattered rather than distressed, for instance, that Clare would not let her go home.... She would rather be with Clare than Elsbeth, wouldn't she? Of course! well, then!... Nevertheless she could not help wondering if any letters had come for her; if Elsbeth, expecting her daily, would bother to send them on.... Roger had promised to write.... She thought that really she ought to go home.
But Clare would not hear of her leaving. Elsbeth wanted Alwynne? So did she. Didn't Elsbeth always have Alwynne? Surely Alwynne was old enough to be away from Elsbeth for a fortnight, without leave granted! Really, with all due respect to her, Alwynne's aunt was a regular Old Man of the Sea.
"Clare!" Alwynne's tone had a hint of remonstrance.
"Oh, I said 'with all respect.' But if she were not your aunt I should really be tempted to get rid of her—have you here altogether. You would like that, Alwynne, eh?"
Alwynne refused to nod, but she laughed.
"'Get rid'? Clare, don't be absurd."
Clare looked at her, smiling, eyes narrowed in the old way.
"Do you think I couldn't get rid of her if I wanted to? I always do what I set out to do. Look at Henrietta Vigers."
Alwynne sat bolt upright.