horror of tears, and never quite knew what to do with people who cried. Still, it was obvious that she could not leave the little French girl like that, so she wriggled over to her and began to pat her shoulder.
‘Simone! What’s up? Don’t cry like that, old thing! Aren’t you well?’
At the first sound of her voice Simone had half sprung up, then she collapsed again into the little huddle she had been when Jo found her.
‘Is anything up?’ asked the latter again, as she made a valiant effort to pull the other child into her arms.
‘Tell me, Simone, old thing!’
‘I want my mother!’ sobbed Simone in French, so that it was all Joey could do to make it out. I want my mother and my home!’
‘You poor kid!’ Simone was exactly ten weeks younger than Joey, but for the present the English girl felt very maternal towards her. ‘You poor kid! There, don’t cry, old dear! You’ll be all right soon!’
Simone stretched out a hot, sticky hand and grabbed Joey’s.
‘I am so lonelee!’ she sobbed. ‘You and Grizel are such friends!’
‘I say, we didn’t mean to make you feel out of it,’ replied Joey, whose conscience was very busily at work.
‘Honour bright, we didn’t!’
‘You are of the same nationality,’ went on Simone, who, once she had started to make confidences, evidently meant to go on. ‘You live in the same town, and know each other well, and me, I am only one.
And now there will be two more, and I shall still be only one.’
Here her sobs choked her, and she was unable to go on for a few minutes. Joey sat stroking her head in silence, the while she was rapidly turning things over in her mind. Finally she decided.
‘Simone,’ she said aloud, ‘I’m awfully sorry Grizel and I have been such beasts. I quite see we have been beasts, even though we didn’t mean it! Now I want you to mop up-here’s a hankie!-and come back with me, and we’ll start again. I’m sure Grizel will see it, and we’ll all be pally together.’
But this was not what Simone wanted. Truth to tell, she had conceived a violent affection for Jo, and Grizel, with her vivid prettiness and more obvious qualities, repelled her. So she sobbed on, while Joey sat, nearly distracted, and not knowing what to do.
‘Simone, I do wish you’d stop!’ she said finally. ‘Do stop crying, old thing! I’ll do anything I can for you; honest, I will!’
Simone made a big effort. ‘Will you be- my friend? ‘ she choked out.
‘Of course I will! I am! We both are!’
‘No; I mean-my amie intime ! Oh, Jo, if you only would, I think I should be happier! Grizel makes friends with everyone. Gisela Marani loves her, and so does Bette Rincini! I don’t want her; I want only you! I love you so!’
Anyone less sentimental than Joey Bettany it would have been hard to find; and now she sat rigid with horror while Simone made this little speech. Her first impulse was to say, ‘Don’t be so idiotic!’ but you can’t do that when a person has lifted a pathetically tear-stained face to you, and is looking at you with eyes full of a doglike affection. At least you can’t if you are like soft-hearted Jo, who promptly hugged the younger girl, saying, ‘Righto! we’ll be pals. And now, do mop up, there’s a gem!’
‘You will be my amie intime ?’ persisted Simone, even as she scrubbed her eyes hard with Joey’s handkerchief. ‘You will relate to me all your secrets, and walk with me, and love me?’
‘Yes, as long as it doesn’t interfere with other people,’ responded Joey. ‘I can’t tell you other people’s affairs, Simone! And look here, you mustn’t come rushing off by yourself. It might come on a thunderstorm or anything, and we shouldn’t know where you were. At least, I should now, but the others wouldn’t, and it might worry them.’
‘I will p-romise to do it no more,’ replied Simone soberly. ‘And now, Joey, please kiss me. You have never kissed me yet.’
Joey hastily brushed Simone’s
‘Simone! What’s up? Don’t cry like that, old thing! Aren’t you well?’
At the first sound of her voice Simone had half sprung up, then she collapsed again into the little huddle she had been when Jo found her.
‘Is anything up?’ asked the latter again, as she made a valiant effort to pull the other child into her arms.
‘Tell me, Simone, old thing!’
‘I want my mother!’ sobbed Simone in French, so that it was all Joey could do to make it out. I want my mother and my home!’
‘You poor kid!’ Simone was exactly ten weeks younger than Joey, but for the present the English girl felt very maternal towards her. ‘You poor kid! There, don’t cry, old dear! You’ll be all right soon!’
Simone stretched out a hot, sticky hand and grabbed Joey’s.
‘I am so lonelee!’ she sobbed. ‘You and Grizel are such friends!’
‘I say, we didn’t mean to make you feel out of it,’ replied Joey, whose conscience was very busily at work.
‘Honour bright, we didn’t!’
‘You are of the same nationality,’ went on Simone, who, once she had started to make confidences, evidently meant to go on. ‘You live in the same town, and know each other well, and me, I am only one.
And now there will be two more, and I shall still be only one.’
Here her sobs choked her, and she was unable to go on for a few minutes. Joey sat stroking her head in silence, the while she was rapidly turning things over in her mind. Finally she decided.
‘Simone,’ she said aloud, ‘I’m awfully sorry Grizel and I have been such beasts. I quite see we have been beasts, even though we didn’t mean it! Now I want you to mop up-here’s a hankie!-and come back with me, and we’ll start again. I’m sure Grizel will see it, and we’ll all be pally together.’
But this was not what Simone wanted. Truth to tell, she had conceived a violent affection for Jo, and Grizel, with her vivid prettiness and more obvious qualities, repelled her. So she sobbed on, while Joey sat, nearly distracted, and not knowing what to do.
‘Simone, I do wish you’d stop!’ she said finally. ‘Do stop crying, old thing! I’ll do anything I can for you; honest, I will!’
Simone made a big effort. ‘Will you be- my friend? ‘ she choked out.
‘Of course I will! I am! We both are!’
‘No; I mean-my amie intime ! Oh, Jo, if you only would, I think I should be happier! Grizel makes friends with everyone. Gisela Marani loves her, and so does Bette Rincini! I don’t want her; I want only you! I love you so!’
Anyone less sentimental than Joey Bettany it would have been hard to find; and now she sat rigid with horror while Simone made this little speech. Her first impulse was to say, ‘Don’t be so idiotic!’ but you can’t do that when a person has lifted a pathetically tear-stained face to you, and is looking at you with eyes full of a doglike affection. At least you can’t if you are like soft-hearted Jo, who promptly hugged the younger girl, saying, ‘Righto! we’ll be pals. And now, do mop up, there’s a gem!’
‘You will be my amie intime ?’ persisted Simone, even as she scrubbed her eyes hard with Joey’s handkerchief. ‘You will relate to me all your secrets, and walk with me, and love me?’
‘Yes, as long as it doesn’t interfere with other people,’ responded Joey. ‘I can’t tell you other people’s affairs, Simone! And look here, you mustn’t come rushing off by yourself. It might come on a thunderstorm or anything, and we shouldn’t know where you were. At least, I should now, but the others wouldn’t, and it might worry them.’
‘I will p-romise to do it no more,’ replied Simone soberly. ‘And now, Joey, please kiss me. You have never kissed me yet.’
Joey hastily brushed Simone’s
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