“How did you happen to discover your power over it?” asked Mary Louise, who could not help smiling at her friend’s mention of the father’s nose. The elder O’Gorman had been a famous detective and his shapeless nose had been almost as famous as its owner.
“It was this way: I blame myself and my sensitive vanity for not finding out about it long ago,” laughed Josie. “You see I never looked in a mirror, at least hardly ever. I never liked what I saw there and I saw no use in mortifying myself. Instead of facing the truth about my ugly mug I put it behind me.”
“Your face? That was a great feat. Surely you are some juggler!”
Josie grinned.
“Excuse the Irish break. Anyhow, I looked at myself occasionally only—to see that my hair was parted straight or my hat was not cocked over one ear. It was after that experience I had in Atlanta getting even with that arch fiend, Chester Hunt, and bringing the Waller family together that I sat down in front of a mirror one day and looked myself squarely in the face. I was very triumphant over having bested and worsted the handsome Chester; but in spite of my satisfaction there was a kind of sore spot in my heart, because you see, honey, after all I’m nothing but a girl and no matter how indifferent I may seem to things girls have and do I’m not really indifferent at all. I’m just busy—too busy to brood over the things that can’t be helped. But somehow Chester Hunt’s remarks sort of hurt me. He did not scruple to let me know he considered me homely beyond words and he took a real delight in making me feel that it was hard to believe I could be the capable person he had decided I was because my appearance was so against me. I fancy I wouldn’t have minded so much if he himself had not been so extremely handsome. I give you my word, Mary Louise, he was one of the most wonderful looking men I ever saw, and there was nothing in his appearance to give away the black-hearted villainy of him. Well, as I was saying, I sat down in front of the mirror and looked at myself, trying to see myself as no doubt the handsome Chester saw me.”
“It’s my nose that is the insurmountable offender!” I exclaimed. “No wonder he thought me so hideous. I wonder if he’d like me any better if I had a turned-up nose.”
With that Josie turned up her nose, giving herself such a ridiculous expression that Mary Louise laughed merrily.
“Well that’s when I found out I could do it. I practiced holding it like this for minutes at the time. Then I discovered I could take on a kind of hare-lip look and in fact could do almost anything that I had a mind to with my despised nose. So you see Chester Hunt has been a great friend to me, unwittingly however. I fancy he’d like to get even with me in some way besides making it possible for me to make faces that disguise my weird beauty. Anyhow, from being a person who used never to look in a mirror, I spent all of my spare time making faces at myself in the glass. What do you think of this one? I held it for two miles the other day and met Captain Lonsdale, who did not recognize me, although he has known me forever.”
“Oh, Josie, what a face! No wonder poor Captain Charlie didn’t know you! Who would unless he had been present at the transformation?” Mary Louise gave Josie an affectionate hug, as she spoke.
The girls were seated in the Higgledy Piggledy Shop, which was an industry owned and run by Josie O’Gorman and her two associates, Elizabeth Wright and Irene MacFarlane, and watched over by the guardian angel, Mary Louise Dexter. In the Higgledy Piggledy Shop one found a little of everything and the youthful proprietors prided themselves on never turning down an order, no matter how impossible it might appear. From a small undertaking it had grown to be a business of goodly proportions. Elizabeth Wright was the business manager and also looked after the literary end, writing club papers for the unwary females who had got themselves in for such things and were powerless to deliver the goods. She also did a pretty good business in obituary notices, corrected and typed manuscripts and ran a correspondence course in the art of scenario writing, passing on the knowledge she had picked up during the summer she had spent at Columbia University. Many and varied were the duties of Elizabeth, all of which she performed with proficiency.