"What is that about Christian, and having much fun, and being all right?" suddenly said a gay voice; and Star Lestrange, in a pale-blue frock, looking as pretty as a girl could look, danced into the room.
"The usual thing; you know all about it," said Miss Jessie.
"Of course I do; and so does Lucy Norris, and so does Jane Price, and so does Angela Goring."
"So many," said Miss Jessie in a tone of relief.
"Yes, Jessie, my honey, so you may go to bed with an easy mind; your new fledgling won't come to any harm. Now, come along, Christian. You have us four to look after you. We can't appear publicly as your bodyguard, but see if you won't feel our influence."
Christian, in her relief, almost squeezed Star's hand.
"Don't," said Star, who seemed to read her thought in her eyes. "It's not the fashion at Penwerne Manor to show much outward affection. I mean we never kiss, and we don't clasp arms much, or anything of that sort—not until we turn ourselves into what we call 'loverettes.' Sometimes two girls make a great friendship and declare it publicly in the school; then they're dubbed 'loverettes' by their fellows, and are allowed to sit alone, and walk about arm in arm. But that sort of thing doesn't often happen; and, for my part," continued Star, "I hate it."
"And yet I should have thought you were very affectionate," said Christian.
"Should you?" answered Star, favoring her with a full glance, which caused the young girl to shrink into her shoes.