‘Never knew such cockiness as the Babe’s,’ he laughed, tilting his straw hat a little more over his eyes.
‘Babs always thinks that everybody’s always talkin’ about her,’ added Bobbin, in his shrillest voice.
Barbara stretched as far as she could, and managed with difficulty to knock off Kit’s hat with the end of a stick. Robin was out of reach, so she contented herself with frowning at him severely, and then leaned back again and began to fan herself with her handkerchief. Everything made one feel hot this afternoon. ‘What did Margaret say about me?’ she repeated curiously.
‘It was when I was waiting to put away her books, just before dinner yesterday,’ Angela related with eagerness; ‘or was it before tea? No! I think it was before dinner, because––’
‘Oh, get on, Angela, do!’ interrupted Jean, impatiently. Even the presence of Barbara Berkeley’s clever brother, which was paralysing her, could not keep the leader of the junior playroom from snubbing Angela.
‘Well, she said Babs was the most popular girl in the school,’ continued Angela. ‘She did, honour bright, and I’m not exaggerating, Jean. She said it to Ruth Oliver, and Ruth Oliver said: “Isn’t it queer? Such a little kid, too.” And Margaret said: “That’s just it, stupid!” Then she saw me listening, and she told me not to listen but to make myself scarce; and of course I wasn’t listening at all, I was only––’
‘There’s nothing new in that’ interrupted Jean, looking superior. ‘Everybody knows that the Babe––’ Here she caught Kit’s eye, and stopped hastily. She was not sure that she liked Barbara Berkeley’s clever brother; he had such a queer way of looking at one. Nobody in the junior playroom ever made her feel like that.
Barbara was in deep perplexity. ‘Is that why every one clapped, then, on the night of the display?’ she said wonderingly.
Christopher looked in mock reproach at Angela. ‘You shouldn’t have told her,’ he said. ‘She won’t be fit to speak to for a month now.’
‘Oh, don’t, Kit!’ retorted Barbara, more from habit than because she really resented his words. As a matter of fact she had hardly heard them, for she was busy puzzling things over in her mind. ‘I can’t think what it all means,’ she went on; ‘every one used to complain of me so. There was Mary Wells, for instance––’