She longed to be dressed, and beginning already. She sat up in bed and looked across at Poppy. She wanted to tell her and the others all the news, but Poppy was sleeping in the most aggravatingly persistent way.
Too impatient to wait for her to wake, she slipped out of bed and crept along the corridor, past Miss Charlotte's room, to Penelope's.
Angela was asleep, but Penelope lay awake reading.
"What is that you are reading?" asked Esther, eyeing the red-covered book with a sort of feeling that it was familiar to her.
"Oh, it's only The Invasion of the Crimea," said Penelope, withdrawing her eyes almost reluctantly from the page.
"I didn't know you were going on with it," said Esther, a touch of resentment in her voice. She did not like to feel that Penelope was more persevering than she herself, and had outstripped her. She was conscious in her inmost heart that she had not been sorry when the readings were broken off; the history did not interest her. At the same time it mortified her a little that it did interest Penelope.
"It's awfully exciting," said Penelope. "Of course I have to skip some, I can't understand it, but here and there it's lovely."
Esther's first fresh joyful feeling was a little dashed, but as it came back to her mind what it was that she wanted to say, she recovered herself. "In a few days I shall be learning properly," she thought, and then Penelope would not outstrip her.
"Listen to me," she said eagerly, as she perched herself on the foot of Penelope's bed. Angela stirred, and catching sight of Esther, was wide awake in a moment.
"What is it?" she demanded. "Has anything happened?"