Berta regarded her solemnly. “We did,” she answered.
“Yes,” said Robbie Belle.
“Well, that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to change. I’m going to be made over, Mother April. I’m going to turn into a genius for a while. I’ve always wanted to be a genius. It’s no fun to be systematic and steady and conscientious, and so forth, is it, Robbie Belle? At least it isn’t very much fun, considering what might be done with our opportunities. So I intend to behave as if I had an artistic temperament. I am going to let my work pile up, cut late, skip meals, break engagements, never answer letters, give in to moods, be generally irresponsible, and so forth, just like Berta. I’m going to——”
“What!”
Bea laughed again mischievously at the sound of outraged dignity in Berta’s voice. “Yes, I am. I have the spring fever: I don’t want to do anything, and I don’t want to do nothing either. In fact, this is the single solitary thing I do want to do. That’s the reason why it will be so agreeable to be a genius. At least, it will be agreeable to me, if not to my contemporaries and companions. I shall do exactly as I please at the moment. Another reason will be the thrill of novelty—I’m simply dying for excitement.”
“Thrill of novelty!” groaned Berta. “I infer that you never do as you please. You continually ‘sackerifice’ yourself——”
“Yes, yes, of course, but I was afraid you hadn’t noticed.” Bea raised her fingers to smooth the corners of her mouth straight. “Now, you’ve been growing worse—I mean, more and more of a genius ever since entering college. I myself ought to be called Prexie’s Assistant, somewhat after the order of Miss Edgeworth’s ‘Parent’s Assistant,’ you know, because my career has been such an awful warning to the undergraduate. But you’re an example——”
“I am not a genius,” Berta spoke with biting severity of accent; “Lucine Brett is a genius, and I despise her.”
“You used to despise her,” put in Robbie Belle gently.
Berta caught her lip between her teeth for a fleeting instant of irritation, for she was not naturally meek. Then she glanced at Robbie with a quick smile all the sweeter for the under-throb of repentance over her impatient impulse. “All right, I used to long ago. But to return to our guest. I am not a genius, I hasten to remark again. Furthermore I shall be excessively obliged if Miss Leigh will march out of this apartment and stay where she belongs.”