"We're every bit as good as you are, Florry," said Emma. "It was only yesterday father said that your father and he used to chum together at the same school, but that he had pennies in his pocket and your father had none. Don't be a goose, Florry. Let's walk arm-in-arm. Wouldn't you like to come in and have a bit of supper? Aunt Phœbe said if we met you we might ask you. And there are sweetbreads for supper, and fried liver and bacon. You know how fond you are of those things."
"So I am," said Florence; "and I had such a wretched tea. It's awfully uncomfortable at home on Sunday; the kids make such a row all over the house. Our servant is out, and there's no one to look after anything."
"Well," said Emma, "Aunt Phœbe looks after things for us, and she loves something hot for supper. She's going to make pancakes, too; and we can have toasted cheese afterwards if we like."
"Oh, yes, and we can make coffee," said Ethel. "We are going to have a real jolly time. Will you come?—for if you don't, we'll ask Mary Ann Pomfret."
Mary Ann Pomfret was the one girl in the whole of Tregellick whom Florence detested.
"You can please yourself," she said. "I won't come near you if you have Mary, but I'd love to come to you alone. Your place always seems so comfy on Sundays."
"Then let's walk arm-in-arm," said Emma; and she ran round to Florence's left side, and Ethel took hold of her other arm, and in this fashion they walked up the High Street.
"I call it specially mean," said Ethel, "after we have made those lovely cakes and prepared all those things to give Susan and the other girls a right good time. There can be no earthly excuse in their not having us. Just because a girl—and a new girl—happens to be a bit ill."
"But they say she is very ill," said Florence. "She was prayed for in church twice to-day. What do you mean to do, Ethel?"
"Go, of course," said Ethel.