"I won't go to her," said Maud. "Some of the things you do, Susan, make me wretched. I do wish you'd be straight and nice and honorable like Star. I am sure she has no end of fun in her, and is most daring, but she would never stoop to your sort of things."
"Really, Maud, I don't know what to make of you. If you go on like this I shall have to get some other girl to be my special friend; and then, dear little love, look out for squalls, for don't you remember——"
Susan bent and whispered into Maud's tiny, shell-like ear. Maud colored.
"Go and look up your lessons," continued Susan, pushing her away with a contemptuous motion; "your French was not specially creditable to-day. I will approach Christian and have a chat with her."
Maud ran off at once. Susan looked after her. Susan's overhanging brows gave a decided scowl to her face.
She approached Christian Mitford softly, and when she came within a short distance, said in a mincing voice, and in the tone of a person drawling out a hymn:
"Come hither, little Christian,
And hearken unto me;
I'll tell you what the daily life
Of a Christian child should be."
Christian turned at once angrily. "I don't want to speak to you," she said.
"But you must, love; you really must. We are going to have such a lovely time in the attic on Saturday fortnight—the best we ever had—and you are to be present, and we are all to wear our white dresses. We will look like so many cherubs, won't we? And there's to be such a supper—got out of your sovereign, darling."
"Susan, I can't give you any more money. I only had two sovereigns when Miss Neil left me; she said they were to last until——"