“Ashamed of it! no, mamma,” said Charlotte with heightened colour. “It isn’t that.”
“But you are fanciful, dear, about Miss Meredon. How can you be sure in one day that she is going to distance you in all your lessons?”
“She will do so in German, any way,” said Charlotte gloomily, “and that is almost the worst of all. Oh, mamma, if you had heard Herr Märklestatter to-day! Just out of contradiction I got an extra difficult piece to translate, and I stumbled over it rather, I know. At another time I wouldn’t have minded, and he wouldn’t have minded. But to-day—”
“He wanted you to show off before the new girl of course, and very likely you did too, and that made you worse,” said Jerry bluntly.
“Perhaps,” Charlotte agreed. “But oh, mamma, you would have been sorry for me,” and her voice broke.
“I am sorry for you, my dear. It is a battle you have to fight. But you must be brave—about your lessons; you know we know you always do your best. That should keep you happy.”
Charlotte gave a deep sigh. But before she left the room she stooped and kissed her mother.
“Thank you, mamma,” she said.
Jerry followed her to the school-room.
“Jerry,” she said, as she sat down and spread out her books, “I must have had a sort of feeling that this girl was to do me harm. It is not true that things are even—she has everything, you see. The worst of it is, that I almost believe she is good.”