"Who is that pretty little girl?" said Angela Goring.
Star, who had been standing looking as dismal as a girl could, now brightened up.
"Oh, that is little Rosy Latimer, a great friend of Christian's. Do let us ask her to come and sit with us for a bit. She seems so nice, and is so pretty."
"I don't know her," said Angela. "You go and speak to her, Star."
A lot of girls were standing about in the hall. Amongst them were Susan Marsh and her satellite, Maud Thompson. Maud now hardly ever left Susan's side. Susan's face was gloomy, and at the same time obstinate. She looked resolved to go on at any cost, following her own sweet will. Maud was thoroughly subdued and wretched. The advent of Rose—a person with fresh interests—on the scene therefore caused an agreeable diversion.
Rose was quite ignorant of the manners of schools and the ways of schoolgirls—at least those of the upper classes were unknown to her—but she was being rigidly brought up by a most aristocratic old woman, for no one could have more aristocratic ideas than nurse. She dropped her courtesy, therefore, as she had been told to do, and smiled with great pleasure when Star invited her to come into their midst.
"I am very much obliged, miss," said Rose, and then she dropped another courtesy.
"You needn't courtesy, Rose," said Star. "It's a wet day, and we are all glad to have some sort of diversion. Please, sit there, won't you?—there, in that easy-chair near the ingle-nook—and tell us all you can about Christian."
"What is your name, child?" interrupted Susan Marsh.