The next day was Thursday, and Thursday was Patience Chetwold's day. It passed very much as Wednesday had done, only that Jane looked rather miserable, and Harriet took no notice of her at all. Friday was Rose Amberley's day, and on that day the girls heard--or fancied they heard-- peals of laughter in the distance. They were all rather anxious, for Rose was so remarkably nice, and had quite a way with little children. Before Robina came she had shared the honours with her elder sister, Constance, of being the babies' favourite. The girls began to say amongst themselves that Rose would carry off the prize, and that, on the whole, they would like her to have it, for she was so kind and nice, and so remarkably pretty. It was on the evening of Friday that Jane ran up to Harriet, pulled her by her arm, and said in a low tone:-- "I want to walk with you in the paddock." "Now, what's up?" said Harriet crossly. "Come," said Jane. Jane's black eyes were shining, and her short black hair resembled a mop more than ever, and her little round figure seemed rounder. There was quite an agitation about Jane which made her roundness and queer short hair and round black eyes look too comical for words; at least, this was what Harriet said, when she found herself with her friend in the paddock. Harriet was such a contrast to Jane, and looked more lanky and more pale than ever on this occasion. "Now--what is up?" she said. "You do look precisely like a fat Christmas goose just before he is going to be killed for Christmas dinner. What _is_ up with you now?" "Only that--I--I--mean--I don't want to be the school-mother." Harriet burst into a peal of laughter. "Isn't it a case of sour grapes?" she said. "You just know you can't be the school-mother, so you think you'll cover your defeat by saying that sort of thing." "I want to say more," whispered Jane. "I am frightened to do what you want; I mean I am frightened to say what isn't true about the others-- and, particularly, about Robina. I don't want to do it; I thought I would tell you." "I always knew you were a sneak," said Harriet, "but please yourself, of course. It won't be very nice for you when I send you to Coventry." "What do you mean by sending to Coventry?" asked Jane. "You _are_ a silly! You are frightfully ugly, and you have no brains at all. Coventry means that I won't speak to you; and what's more, I'll get a lot more girls in the school not to speak to you. Perhaps you won't enjoy that--but please yourself, I don't care." "Harriet, you _are_ cross! You know, you know quite well that I would please you if I could. But--but I do want to be the sort of girl Mrs Burton spoke about." "Oh, you are turning goody-goody!" said Harriet. "Then, indeed, I have no further use of you. I am going to take up Vivian Amberley. She is quite a nice little thing--very different from you."