“Yes,” said Christabel, “I wouldn’t dare to be very ill—and p’r’aps—you know—not get better, after being so wicked. Yes, wicked. Worse than you, I know. You needn’t think I don’t know that.”
“I wasn’t thinking about it,” said Leila. “I thought if they let me help to nurse Japs, it would be a sort of make-up, and if I did get it, that would do for a punishment, and would put it all straight, you see.”
“No, I don’t see. It would make it all worse,” said Chrissie irritably. Deep down in her heart, she knew well what would be the first step to take towards “putting it straight” but the impulse to confession had faded again, leaving only enough uneasiness to make her cross and quarrelsome.
Just then Harriet appeared.
“If you please,” she said timidly, “Miss Fortescue says aren’t you coming up to help about your things?”
They turned to go.
“What’s going to happen to you, Harriet?” asked Chrissie recklessly. “Are you going to be turned out too?”
Harriet smiled in calm superiority.
“I’ve had it, Miss,” she said, “and of course your Mamma couldn’t nohow do without me. I’d never dare look Aunt—that’s Nurse, you know, Miss—in the face again if I didn’t do my best.”
“She’s much better than we are,” thought Christabel.