“No—no, I can’t—not now; perhaps in a few months’ time, but not now. Don’t ask me. Don’t take any notice of me. I will try and keep it to myself.”
“Oh, whatever is worrying you?” said Nora. “You are getting quite pale and thin. Kitty and I have noticed it, and we don’t like it at all. We feel somehow that Augusta is to blame, but we are not sure.”
“Don’t blame anybody,” said Nancy. “It was my own fault in the first instance, and nothing can remedy it—at least until the holidays are over.”
“Well, let us forget it,” said Kitty, going up to her little friend and kissing her. “It is so lovely in these darling woods! Don’t you just adore that peep of the blue, blue sea between those trees? And, oh, how pretty the butterflies look flitting from flower to flower! I don’t think it is right to be unhappy in such a perfect place as this.”
Nancy tried to smile.
“There, that is better,” said Nora; “come and sit between us. Let us talk about prize-day. Won’t it be exciting when it comes?”
“Yes—very,” said Nancy.
“Do you know what Kit and I are quite certain about?” continued Nora. “We are positively sure that you will get the Royal Cross.”
“Oh no, I sha’n’t! Why should I?”
“Well, you see, as far as we can tell, you have never had even what might be called a dubious mark for conduct. Your conduct every single day has been good, or very good, or excellent.”