“Pretty good imitation, Virgie,” said Isabel. “She probably wouldn’t have played the games, though, would have had a bad ankle or arm, or a pain somewhere.”
“I couldn’t play yesterday,” said Betty. “I had taken cold in my shoulder or something. Do you suppose any one thought I was lazy?”
“If they did, they’ll find out differently before the summer’s over,” replied Virgie.
Poor little Virginia had never been “spoiled” enough, or had enough real love in her life those last hard years on the ranch. But she had come out of it with a tough, firm little body, and a gallant little soul with which to meet adventures, good or ill.
“I am surprised at you, Margaret Virginia Hope,” said Lilian, “that you are so hard-hearted toward Bess and condone Betty’s sins!”
“Please cut out the Margaret, Lilian. Don’t you remember how I told you that I had absolutely changed my personality? Margaret and Maggie died on the ranch.”
The girls recalled Virginia’s unhappy little story, confided to them, of the handsome-looking but rough-speaking and high-tempered stepmother whom her father had brought to the ranch, and how at last when her father found out the state of affairs he had sent her away to school and promised that she should not return for a time, if he could manage it. Virginia had been afraid that she would have to go back this summer and help, but her father’s finances improved till he found that he could afford to send her with the girls to camp.
“What are you going to wear, girls, at the costume party tonight?”
“I’m one of the men,” said Frances. “They always have me for one because I’m tall and have short hair. I’m going to have Cathalina’s scarlet sport coat and other appropriate togs, a burnt cork mustache, and a cane. We must pick our corsage bouquets this afternoon.”
“O, yes; you have to get one.”