It seemed almost a week ago now since she had gone. In some indefinable way she seemed to have grown older in that one hour, to have got away from all these things that had engrossed her before.
“Come on; why shouldn’t you?” Nell said [67] ]persuasively, quick to take advantage of that sudden blush.
Just a moment Meg hesitated,—it would be very sweet to go down to the room again and lose this heavy-heartedness in “the delight of happy laughter, the delight of low replies.”
But poor, misunderstood Bunty whom they all “got on to”—her neglected duty! Had she any right to be enjoying herself just now, any right to chase away these new feelings?
She turned away with a sudden lifting of head.
“No, I am not coming; say good-night for me.”
“Stay away then,” said Nellie in exasperation. So Meg went down the landing once more to the boys’ end.
“Bunty,” she said, knocking softly, “I want to come in; may I?”
There was an impatient grunt inside.
“What on earth do you want? Can’t you give a fellow a bit of peace? What are you after now? Yes, I’ve put my dirty socks in the linen basket.”