"I know. Do you think I like her?"
"Actions speak louder than words, my dear. You are with her always, sniggering in corners, and looking so mysterious; her hand in yours, and her arm round your waist. Faugh! it makes me sick. Doesn't it you, Angel?"
"Perhaps Christian can explain," said Angela, who had a very kind face and read trouble in Christian's eyes.
"Do explain, Chris; there's a darling," said Star. "We want to be nice to you, both Angel and I, but we can't cotton to your friend, and that's a fact. Now tell us, why do you go with her? Why are you always following her about, or she following you about? You are so absolutely unlike the sort of girl who ought to be with her that it is more or less, the talk of the school. You'll tell us, won't you?"
"I'm afraid, I can't. I wish I could."
"Oh, then," Star's sweetness suddenly left her.
She became her old, somewhat severe, satirical little self once more.
"She won't be bold and tell us, the charming young thing!" she sang out, letting her voice drop from the ceiling almost into Christian's ears.
"Oh, Star, can't you understand? I am unhappy. Oh! I daren't say another word; only the fact of your not liking me makes me miserable. I was never away from home before. Do be kind to me, Star."
"I will if you tell me the truth; but I won't if you keep up the mystery. So now you can choose. Give me your confidence and I'll get you out of your worries, whatever they are."