CHAPTER VIII
BILLIE AGAINST HER WORLD
There was a moment of silence broken only by the night sounds of the woods and the gentle lapping of the lake against the shore.
Then Edina Tooker drew a long, tremulous breath.
“It—sounds like—a fairy tale,” she said huskily. “Seems like I’d have to change a lot to have that happen.”
“So you will,” said Billie Bradley eagerly. She was beginning to warm to her plan as it took form in her mind. “Not in yourself, you understand, but in, well, in externals—like clothes, for instance.”
There! It was out! Even in the darkness Billie could guess at the hot flush that mantled the face of the girl from the West. As the silence continued and Edina sat with clenched hands, staring out toward the lake, Billie began to fear she had gone too far—that Edina’s fierce pride would resent the insinuation in her friendly suggestion.
In a moment, however, Edina’s quiet voice put her fears to rest.
“Everything about me’s wrong. Don’t you think I know that? All I need is eyes in my head to tell me I don’t stack up against these girls here with their purty clothes and their airs and graces. We’re a hundred—a thousand miles apart.”
“Would you like to be like them, Edina—look like them, I mean?”
For the first time the girl showed animation.