"Only the other day I said to Dorothy that I didn't hate Marian Seaton any longer; that I felt only sorry for her. I said, too, that there must be some good in her if one could only find it. What a simpleton I was!"
The sarcastic smile that hovered about Jane's red lips, fully indicated her contempt of her own mistaken sentiments.
"Adrienne was right," she said after a brief pause. "She said she could never forget nor forgive an injury. I thought I could, but I can't. I mean I don't want to."
Her brows meeting in the old disfiguring scowl, Jane began pacing the room in what Judith had termed her "caged lion" fashion.
"Oh, forget it," counseled Judith, casting a worried glance at Jane's gloomy, storm-ridden face. "Don't let Marian Seaton's hatefulness upset you, Jane. You behaved like a brick about your room and that letter. This isn't half as bad as that mix-up was. You said your own self that you were going to ignore anything she tried to do against you. Now go ahead and keep your word. You've lots of good friends. You should worry."
"I haven't so many," Jane sharply contradicted. "I can count them on my fingers. I don't make friends as easily as you do, Judy."
"Just the same a lot of fuss was made over you last spring when you won the big game for our team," Judith sturdily reminded.
"That's not friendship. That was only admiration of the moment. The same girls who cheered me then would probably be just as ready to turn against me if they happened to feel like it," pointed out Jane skeptically. "No wonder I used to hate girls. Very few of them know what loyalty and friendship mean."
"You're hopeless." Judith made a gesture of resignation.
With a chuckle she added: "Why not challenge Marian Seaton to a duel and demolish her? Umbrellas would be splendid weapons. I have one with a lovely crooked handle. You could practice hooking it around my neck and when the fateful hour came you could bring the double-dyed villain to her knees with one swoop. Wouldn't that be nice?"