Sometimes I catch her thoughtfully watching Diana or myself instead of getting on with her own prep, as if she’s weighing us in the balance. There’s no clue in the level line of Rosalind’s mouth as to how the two of us measure up. I try to put her out of my mind, pretty successfully. I have too much on my hands, struggling to keep up with the work of the Sixth on top of my other duties and still spare some time to see Ember and Miss Roberts, to spare a strange new girl more than a passing thought. To be fair on myself, Rosalind doesn’t exactly force herself on one’s attention. She’s excused from games so I don’t see her on the playing fields, which is where I seem to spend most of my time, either practising with the First or taking practices or giving extra coaching. And… well, it’s not exactly unjust that being Diana’s chosen bosom friend is enough to drop anyone several pegs in my estimation. I detest the way she bobs around in Diana’s wake, hanging on her every word.
