“No, miss—that is, I expect not. I don’t think there is anything very special doing this afternoon. I can stay with you for a little—an hour or so, anyhow.”
“Oh! that will do splendidly,” said Nan. “You know, Susan, I like you very much.”
“And so do I like you, Miss Nancy; but it is more than I do Miss Augusta. We none of us can bear her—nasty, sly young lady!”
Poor Nan felt a fierce desire to corroborate these words, but she remembered her duty as a soldier prevented her speaking evil even of her enemies, and she restrained herself.
“We need not talk about Augusta now, need we?” she said.
“No, my dear Miss Nancy; but anybody with half an eye can see that she worries you almost past bearing. Dear, dear! there are things I could tell of her if I liked; but I don’t want to be spiteful.”
“It would be very wrong indeed to tell tales, Susan.”
“I ain’t telling them,” said Susan somewhat tartly. “Now miss, hadn’t we best do our messages first?”
Nan agreed to this. They went to one or two shops for Mrs. Richmond, and Susan put her purchases into a bag which hung upon her arm.
“Now then, Miss Nancy, shall we go home, or what shall we do?”