“I suppose you think I’m a mean thing,” said the black-eyed girl, glancing at Nancy askance.
“I’ll leave it for you to say,” returned Nancy. “If I had run to Madame Schakael with a story about you——”
“How do you know I went to her?” snapped Cora. “She asked me where you were. You slipped into her office so quick that she thought you were trying to get out of it, of course. She knew all the time that you were the girl who had been on the ice.”
Now, Nancy did not believe this at all; but she said nothing to show Cora that she distrusted her first friendly (?) advance.
“Anyway,” said the black-eyed one, “she did ask me about you, and if you were out early, as usual. Oh! you can’t fool the Madame.”
“I shouldn’t want to try,” observed Nancy, quietly.
“Well! if you didn’t act so offish we girls would like to be friends with you,” said Cora, tucking her arm into Nancy’s. “Going skating this afternoon?”
This was the first time any girl at Pinewood Hall had ever walked in a “chummy” manner with Nancy. But to tell the truth, Nancy was not sure whether this overture towards peace on the part of her roommate really meant anything or not.
There were lots of the girls whom she thought she would like better than Cora—or her friends. There was the lively Jennie Bruce, for instance. Nancy often watched her flitting back and forth, from group to group, being “hail-fellow-well-met” with them all. Jennie made friends without putting forth any effort, it seemed.
“Oh, I wish I had Jennie for a roommate,” thought Nancy Nelson. “I really would be happy then, I do believe.”