Clara coloured; she felt the reproof in Marcia’s tone. “I know you think me a very silly, curious girl,” she said; “but I really do want to be nice and good and to improve myself. Now you, Miss Aldworth—”
Marcia fidgeted. She rose, and opened the window.
“The day is very hot,” she said.
“Indeed it is. We are all going to the seaside on Saturday. I suppose you couldn’t spare one of the girls—Ethel, or Molly, or Nesta?”
“I fear not. I wish we could, for their sakes. Our hope is that Mrs Aldworth may be better, and then we may be able to take her to the seaside.”
There came a ring at the front door. Marcia coloured brightly. She felt her cheeks growing hot and then cold. Clara was watching her face.
“I think that is the ring of a friend of mine,” she said, “and if you—”
Before she could finish her sentence the door was flung open and Susan announced Miss St. Just. Enter a tall girl in white, with a white muslin hat to match, and a face the like of which Clara had never seen before. The room seemed transfigured. Marcia herself sank into insignificance beside Angela.
Angela came up quickly and kissed her friend.
“You are surprised, Marcia? I want to take you back with me just for the day. If we are quick we can catch the next train.”