“I don’t see why you should scold me,” said Grace, who had not much spirit where Kitty was concerned, but nevertheless had a little. “I did it for you. She’d have escaped otherwise.”
“For goodness’ sake, don’t let’s talk about it,” said Anne; “it makes me sick. Why, if it were known, Grace would be expelled.”
“Not only Grace,” said Sophia, in a shaking voice, “the whole of us—the whole of us. Oh dear, oh dear, I never was so miserable in my life!”
“And what on earth are you miserable about now, pussycat? I own I even didn’t feel too nice the day she was so bad, and they prayed in church for her; but I got fright enough, I can tell you, when you—you goose of a Grace!—fell flop down in a faint on the floor of the pew.”
“I couldn’t help it,” said Grace; “it came over me. Oh it was awful! I thought that if she died——”
“Well, she hasn’t died,” interrupted Kitty; “don’t let’s talk any more about that! She’s as well and hearty as ever. Why, my dear girls, we did her a good turn. Tell me, would she be in the Upper School now but for us? But, for goodness’ sake, let’s drop her. It’s the prize I want to talk about. We must all try for it, that’s a certainty, and I mean to get it. Girls, you’ll none of you really fight against me, will you?”
“Of course not, little sweetheart,” said Anne Dodd.
“But there’s that awful fresh lie we’ve got to tell,” said Sophia Marshall; “it’s that that’s terrifying me. I don’t want to tell any more lies. How can I listen to Mrs. Fleming Sunday after Sunday and act as I’ve been doing lately? I can’t—I tell you, I can’t!”
“Come along, Sophy, and sit here by me,” said Kitty. “You’re blue with the cold out there. You squat on the floor and take my feet on your lap.—You have had your turn, Gracie.”
Grace withdrew meekly.