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Page 14
"Betty, she won't thaw out a bit."
"Who, dear?"
"That Miss Ethelinda Hurst. When I went up stairs to dress for dinner I
tried my best to be sociable, and brought up every subject that I
thought would interest her. She barely answered till she found that I
had come out to Warwick Hall from the city alone. That horrified her, to
think I'd taken a step without a chaperon, and she said it in such a way
that I couldn't help saying that I thought one must feel like a poodle
tied to a string--always fastened to a chaperon. As for me give me
liberty or give me death. And she answered, 'Oh, aren't you _queer_!'
Then after awhile I tried again, but she wouldn't draw out worth a cent.
Said she had never roomed with any one before, but supposed it was one
of the disagreeable things one had to put up with when one went away to
school. Imagine! Pleasant for me, wasn't it!"
"Try letting her alone for awhile," advised Betty. "Beat her at her own
game. Play dumb for--say a week."
"But that is so much good time wasted, when we might be chums from the
start. When you're going to bed is the cream of the day. You see you
always had Lloyd, so you don't know what it is like to room with an
oyster."
"Here it is," announced Betty, unwrapping the package she had just
found, and passing it to Mary. "Lloyd's latest photograph, the best she
has ever had taken, in my opinion. It's so lifelike you almost wait to
hear her speak. And I like it because it's so simple and girlish. I
suppose the next one will be taken in evening gown after she makes her
debut."
"Oh, is it for me?" was the happy cry.
"Yes, frame, picture, nail to hang it on and all. Lloyd sent it with her
love. The day the photographs came home, she found that funny slip of
paper with all the questions on it Jack was to ask. And you wanted so
especially to know just how the Princess looked and how she was wearing
her hair and all that, that she said, 'I believe I'll send one of these
to Mary. She'll admire it whether any one else does or not.'"
"Tell me about her," begged Mary, propping the frame up in front of her
that she might watch the beloved face while she listened.
Nothing loath, Betty sat down and began to talk of the gay summer just
gone, of the picnics and the barn parties, the moonlight drives, the
rainy days at the Log Cabin, the many knights who came a-riding by to
pay court to the fair daughter of the house. Then she told of her own
good times and the disappointment when her manuscript had been returned,
and the reason for her coming to Warwick Hall to teach.
"I have come to serve my apprenticeship," she explained. "The old
Colonel advised me to. He said I must live awhile--have some experiences
that go deeper than the carefree existence I have been living, before I
can write anything worth while. I am sure he is right."
When Mary had heard all that Betty could remember to tell, she took her
departure, carrying the picture and the nail on which to hang it. She
wanted to show it to Ethelinda, she was so proud of it, but heroically
refrained. Early as it was Ethelinda was undressing.
Mary had intended to do many things before bed-time, write in her
journal, mend the rip in her skirt, start a letter to Jack, and maybe
make some break in the wall of reserve which Ethelinda still kept
persistently between them. But when she saw the preparations for
retiring she hesitated, perplexed.
"She's tired from her long journey," she thought, "so maybe I ought not
to sit up and keep the light burning. Maybe she'll appreciate it if I go
to bed, too. I can lie and think even if I'm not sleepy."
The rip in the skirt had to be mended, however, or she would not be
presentable in the morning. It was a small one, and she did not sit down
to the task, but in order that she might work faster stood up and took
short hurried stitches. Next, taking off her shoe to use the heel as a
hammer, she drove the nail in the wall over the side of her bed, and
hung the picture where she could see it the last thing at night and the
first in the morning. Then, retiring behind her screen, she made her
preparations for the night. They were completed long before Ethelinda's,
and climbing into bed she lay looking at the new picture, glad for this
opportunity to gaze at it to her heart's content.
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