Don't look so hopeful.
You're not to be trusted." "What are you talking about ?" asked Rona Mitchell, who had wandered up to the group.

"Why are some of you picking up sticks?
I saw a girl over there with quite a bundle just now.

You might tell me." So far Rona had not been well received in her own form, IV B.She was older than her class-mates, and they, instead of attempting to initiate her into the ways of the Woodlands girls on this holiday afternoon, had scuttled off and left her to fend for herself.

She looked such an odd, wistful, lonely figure that Lizzie Lonsdale's kind heart smote her.

She pushed the other girls farther along the tree-trunk till they made a grudging space for the new-comer.
"I'm a good hand at camp-fires, if you want any help," continued Rona, seating herself with alacrity.