Janet was the heart and soul of everything. She was a girl with a great deal of independence of character; she was not destitute of ambition—she was remarkable for common sense—she was sharp in her manner, downright in her words, and capable, painstaking, and energetic in all she did.
"Are you coming, Dorothy?" called Janet May from the end of the passage.
"Pain and anxiety! I like that! You are just angry with me—that's about all!"
"You deny that she's weak," repeated Janet. "I wonder what your idea of strength is, Olive.""No!" said Bridget. "She says they aren't good for you, so you shan't have them. Let's think of some more fun. Who's that new girl, who, you say, is going to arrive to-night?"
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"Thanks!" said Janet calmly.
"Miss Collingwood," said Marshall, in a timid whisper, "might I say a word to you, miss?"
"How do you do, all of you?" she said. "Well, Janet, good-morning"; she tapped Janet's indignant back with her firm, cool hand, and dropped into her place.