“Oh, come off, Gladys!” said Dolly, irritated despite her determination to go more than half way in re-establishing friendly relations with Gladys. “Why can’t you be sensible? We’ve got more to forgive than you have, and we’re willing to be friends. Aren’t you going to behave decently?”
“I don’t think I know just what you mean, Dolly,” said Gladys, stiffly. “As long as the other girls have decided to be friendly with your–friends, I am not going to make myself unpleasant. But you can hardly expect me to like people just because you do. I must say that I get along better with girls of my own class.”
“I ought to be mad at you, Gladys,” said Dolly, with a peal of laughter. “But you’re too funny! What do you mean by girls of your own class? Girls whose parents have as much money as yours? Mine haven’t. So I suppose I’m not in your class.”
“Nonsense, Dolly!” said Gladys, angrily. “You know perfectly well I don’t mean anything of the sort. I–I can’t explain just what I mean by my own class–but you know it just as well as I do.”
“I think I know it better, Gladys,” said Dolly, gravely. “Now don’t get angry, because I’m not saying this to be mean. If you had to go about with girls of your own class you couldn’t stand them for a week! Because they’d be snobbish and mean. They’d be thinking all the time about how much nicer their clothes were than yours, or the other way around. They wouldn’t have a good word for anyone–they’d just be trying to think about the mean things they could say!”
“Why, Dolly! What do you mean?”
“I mean that that’s your class–the sort you are. Our girls, in the Manasquan Camp Fire, and most of the Halsted girls, are in a class a whole lot better than yours, Gladys. They spend their time trying to be nice, and to make other people happy. There isn’t any reason why you shouldn’t improve, and get into their class, but you’re not in it now.”
“I never heard of such a thing, Dolly! Do you mean to tell me that you and I aren’t in a better class socially than these girls you’re camping with?”
“I’m not talking about society–and you haven’t any business to be. You don’t know anything about it. But if people are divided into real classes, the two big classes are nice people and people who aren’t nice. And each of those classes is divided up again into a lot of other classes. I hope I’m in as good a class as Bessie King and Margery Burton, but I’m pretty sure I’m not. And I know you’re not.”
“There’s no use talking to you, Dolly,” said Gladys, furiously. “I thought you’d had time to get over all that nonsense, but I see you’re worse than ever. I’m perfectly willing to be friends with you, and I’ve forgiven you for throwing those mice at us at Lake Dean, but I certainly don’t see why I should be friendly with all those common girls in your camp.”