"So we are," said Laura. Then she added stoutly, "I like it in spite of Lucy; or, rather, I like Lucy as much as anything else belonging to the school. I hope," she continued as they paced slowly under the fir-trees, "that you are not really anxious about Jane. I know that you and she are friends."
"We have been friends almost since we were babies," said Rosamund. "Not that we are a bit alike in character."
"Indeed you are not. Jane hasn't a quarter of your spirit."
"Perhaps it is because we are such opposites that we are such great friends," continued Rosamund.
"Perhaps; but do say you are not anxious about her."
"Not a scrap. I know Janey's ways. She is a little bit of a glutton is my Jane, and she overate herself at tea at the Singletons'. Now, you must not breathe it to mortal; but when I saw her taking that third plate of strawberries and cream, and that fifth hot buttered cake, I guessed there'd be something up to-night. She gets attacks of indigestion very severely; but if she has a chance of making a good meal—I mean a meal that she likes, for, of course, although the food here is good and plentiful, it is very simple—she never can resist it. There's my Janey to the life, so you needn't suppose that I am a little bit anxious about her."
"Well, that's all right," said Laura. "Somehow I thought by your manner you were."
"That is because I offered to stay in her room to-night. It did seem such a pity that dear Mrs. Merriman should be tired out."
"You have a very kind heart, Rosamund. Come, you know it."
"Have I? I don't think I do know it. But do you know what it is, Laura? I am tired and would like to go to bed. Do you mind if I leave you?"