You see I promised myself
that I'd be happy while Jimmie's having his chance--that's why I came,
you know. But this house is so big and so old and Mr. Harkness and Mrs.
Budge are so old that I know it's going to be hard not to think of
Jimmie and our lovely home and the birds. But if you'd stay it would be
easier. Oh, say you will, say you will."
Beryl stared at Robin with a suspicious scrutiny. She firmly believed
that rich people never did anything except for themselves and Robin, no
doubt, was like all the others. Yet she was such a queer little thing
that perhaps she _was_ trying to be "nice" to her and make a soft place
for her. And Beryl would not allow _that_ for a moment.
"You can study with me, too. That Mr. Tubbs isn't so very bad. And we'll
read together out of all those books in the library. And play--I never
had a real chum because Jimmie thought the girls and boys who went to
the school I did, might make fun of my being lame. Poor Jimmie, he
always minded my being lame much more than I did because he's an artist
and shivers when anything isn't perfect. You shall have a bed in my
room--there's ever so much space.
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