its or demerits. It was in no friendly spirit that she
had paid this visit; then why waste time on foolish preliminaries? She
looked expectantly at Thomasina, and Thomasina stood in front of the
chimney-piece with both hands thrust into the side pockets of her
bicycling skirt, jingling their contents in an easy, gentlemanly
fashion. From her leathern band depended a steel chain which lost
itself in the depths of the right-hand pocket. Rhoda felt an
unaccountable curiosity to discover what hung at the end of that chain
and rattled in so uncanny a fashion.
"Well!" began Thomasina, tilting herself slowly forward on the points of
her flat, wide shoes, "Well, and now about this little matter. I asked
you to step in here because I think differences of opinion are more
easily settled without an audience, and as it were, man to man." She
buried her chin in her necktie, and gazed across the room with a calm,
speculative glance. The likeness between her and the pike-like
gentleman grew more startling every moment. "Now, we have known each
other barely a week, and already I have offended you deeply, and you,
without knowing it, have hit me on a tender spot. It is time that we
came to an understanding. Before going any further, however, there are
one or two questions I should like to ask. You have had time to notice
a good many things since you arrived. You have seen me constantly with
the girls. Do they dislike me? Do they speak of me hardly behind my
back? Do they consider me a bully or a sneak? Should you say on the
whole that I was popular or unpopular?"
"Popular!" said Rhoda firmly. Whatever happened she would speak the
truth, and not quibble with obvious facts. "They like you very much."
"And you wonder how they can, eh? Nevertheless it's true. I'll tell
you something more. I'm the most popular Head Girl at Hurst. You ask
the other colours to-morrow, and they'll tell you to a man that you are
lucky to have me. Very well then, Rhoda, who's to blame if you think
the opposite? Yourself, and nobody but yourself, as I'll proceed to
prove. You come to school with a flourish of trumpets, thinking you are
doing us a mighty big favour by settling among us, and that you are to
be allowed to amble along at your own sweet will, ignoring rules you
don't like, graciously agreeing to those you do, and prepared to turn
into a wild cat the first moment any one tries to keep you in order.
Then, when you are unhapp
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