Now, Star was hungry, and she had naturally a passion for such things as cheese-cakes, queen-cakes, and sweetmeats generally, but she replied in a cold and yet apparently amiable voice:
"Not at present, thank you, Susan, dear. We had better finish our business, had we not? It must be a somewhat important affair to cause you all to meet here between ten and eleven o'clock on a night which is not a general meeting night of the Penwernians."
"We had a good deal to decide," said Susan. "We have to prepare for our next big party; it takes place next week. Have you forgotten, Star?"
"Oh, no," replied Star; "on the contrary, I remember very accurately. When one can only indulge in a good feed of the most unwholesome things in Christendom once a month, is one likely to forget? Nevertheless, Susan, it is strange of you not to have told me; I am a member of the committee."
"I am very sorry," replied Susan. "But really, Star, you are so changeable: at one time the most delightful, pleasant, satisfactory creature on earth, and at other times quite the reverse. We only too eagerly wanted you, dear; of course we did."
Susan held out a fat ungainly hand and tried to take the soft little white palm of Star between her own; but Star resolutely put her hands behind her back.
"I am only here on sufferance," she said; "therefore, I presume I can approve or disapprove. Continue your meeting, ladies; don't, pray, think anything about me. I have forced myself on your society."
"And we are very glad to have you," said Maud. "Aren't we, Christian?"
But Christian said nothing. Star looked at her, and her very bright eyes suddenly softened.
"Come here, Christian," she said, "and stand next to me. Perhaps, after all, though I scarcely thought so this afternoon, you and I are nearer akin than I had any idea of."