Part 6 (1/2)

All at once, a diversion was made by two children from the other room, who came tumbling through the curtain and nearly upset a tall fair girl who was the centre of the group round the fire.

'Look where you are going, Angela Wilkins!' said the fair girl, sternly.

'What are you children doing in here, I should like to know?'

'Please, Margaret, don't be cross, and _do_ let me explain,' begged Angela Wilkins, suppressing an inclination to giggle, and pouring out her words hastily. 'Jean has had millions of letters from Jill Urquhart, and she says----'

'It wasn't millions, Angela, it was only one,' corrected her fellow-culprit from behind.

'And what business has Jean Murray to hear from Jill Urquhart?' demanded the fair girl.

'I'm sure I don't want to hear from her,' grumbled the other girl, whom Angela pushed forward to answer for herself. 'She only writes to me when she wants something. I don't call that _writing_ to a person.'

'She's got a sister coming here this term, and she says everybody has got to look after her, or something like that,' chimed in the irrepressible Angela.

'It isn't a sister, it's a cousin. And she hasn't asked everybody; I wish she had. She's asked _me_ to look after her, and that's a very different thing,' complained Jean Murray, looking distinctly aggrieved.

'Yes,' added Angela, breathlessly; 'why should Jean be bothered with all the new girls who happen to be people's cousins?'

'She isn't,' said Margaret, curtly. 'It's only one new girl; and if she is a cousin of Jill's, Jean ought to be very proud of being asked to look after her. Do stop exaggerating, Angela; and go away, both of you!' Then just as the children slunk off subdued, she recalled them and made a gesture towards the door. 'There's a new girl over there now, I believe,'

she continued indifferently. 'You'd better see whether she's the right one; and if she is, bring her to me.'

She turned again to the fireplace, and the two girls made their way towards the other end of the room, where Barbara still stood unnoticed.

She saw them coming, and heaved a sigh of relief. Things were a long while happening in this school; but it was something if they happened in the end. She glanced at their two faces as they came nearer, and felt disappointed when the one with the cross expression addressed her first.

'I say, what's your name?' began Jean, ungraciously.

'Barbara,' answered the child, faintly. Her dream seemed more improbable than ever, in the presence of this small stranger with the aggressive manner.

'Barbara what?' asked Jean, impatiently.

Babs stared, and added her surname unwillingly. At home, when people spoke like that, they had to do without an answer.

'That's the one,' grumbled Jean to her companion. Then she addressed Barbara again. 'How old are you?' she asked, in the same abrupt way.

'Eleven,' answered Babs, obediently. 'How old are you?'

It was Jean's turn to stare. 'What business is it of yours?' she exclaimed. After a moment's consideration, however, she found a satisfactory reason for replying. 'I'm a year older than you, anyhow,'

she added triumphantly, 'so you'll be the youngest in the school now, and you can take off the head girl's boots.'

Before Barbara had time to realise this penalty, or privilege, belonging to her youth, Angela Wilkins, who had been silent for quite a surprising length of time, suddenly attacked her afresh. 'Are you really Jill's cousin?' she asked, with a giggle.

Babs nodded; but Angela did not seem convinced. 'You're not a bit like her, are you? Jill Urquhart is so pretty and graceful and all that,' she observed with engaging frankness, and then giggled again.

Barbara said nothing; it was certainly unnecessary to agree with such a very obvious statement. Jean Murray, who had also been examining her closely in her turn, evidently seemed to think a further snubbing was required of her.

'You're frightfully tall for your age,' she remarked disapprovingly, as though Barbara were somehow to be held responsible for her height. 'If I had straight spiky legs like yours, I should have my dresses made longer.'

'No, you wouldn't, if you had five brothers always wanting you to do things,' retorted Barbara, promptly. It was saddening to find that, even here, people were prepared to make remarks about the slimness of her legs.

Angela was so surprised at her sudden show of resistance that she forgot to giggle.