, who still gloried in ignoring her; but she
heeded them no more than they had come to heed the unconscious little
person who lay stretched at their feet. It was really only a habit
with them, by this time, to ignore the new girl; for most of them had
quite forgotten the fancied grievance they had originally cherished
against her for her defiance of their favourite, Jean Murray. Indeed, if
it had not been for the fear of Jean's scorn and Jean's tongue, they would
undoubtedly have made friends with her days ago. With the best intentions
in the world, it was not easy to go on avoiding some one who never
seemed to notice that she was being avoided; and most of them wished
secretly that Jean Murray would 'come round.' But whatever Jean felt
about it, she showed no intention outwardly of coming round. Whenever she
found herself alone with a picked audience, she seized the opportunity to
inflame them and herself afresh, by recalling the evil behaviour of
Barbara over the head girl's boots, pointing out how, by a tissue of
deceit, the offender had wormed herself into Margaret's favour, to the
exclusion of other worthier members of the junior playroom--notably of
Jean Murray herself. 'You've only got to see how little she cares, and
_that_ will show you what a wicked mind she's got,' was the kind of
sentence that usually wound up one of these inflammatory addresses;
and after that, the junior playroom would redouble its coolness towards
Barbara Berkeley. But Barbara Berkeley persisted in going her own way
cheerfully, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to live
with fifty-five companions who never spoke to her; and the situation in
the junior playroom threatened to become too absurd to be maintained.

Babs dropped her pen, and picked up one of Kit's letters for reference.
She had so much to say to him and so little time to say it in, that
she was afraid of leaving some of his questions unanswered. Kit's neat
and precisely written epistle was a great contrast to her own blotted
and smudged production; and Barbara sighed as she realised how much
he managed to say in a few words, while she expended far more time and
ink and energy, without expressing half as much as she wanted to tell him.

'Dear Babe,' Kit had written--'This is to tell you that we got home
safely from the great Midnight Rescue Party, though of course I caught a
chill and had to have that beast Hurst again. I'll tell you presently
how Jill ragged him,