“She’s a brick!” said Molly. “I shouldn’t be one scrap ashamed of showing this room to Clay, and I never could bear the thought of her coming up to it in the old days.”
“I say, what a jolly bed,” said Ethel. “Shouldn’t I just like to tumble into it and sleep and sleep.”
“And my darling little room all alone, too. Don’t you envy me, you two? Won’t you be always afraid that I’m eavesdropping and listening to your precious secrets?” cried the irrepressible Nesta.
“Oh, it is good,” said Molly, “but I feel quite a big ache at my heart. It’s Marcia, and we’ve been so horrid to her, and she has been so good to us.”
“Well, let’s try hard to show her that we’re really pleased,” said Ethel.
The girls washed their hands and combed out their luxurious hair and made themselves as smart as possible, and then, an anxious trio, they went out and stood on the landing. Here it was Nesta who began to tremble.
“It’s that old patch in the carpet,” she said. “It upsets me more than anything. I remember how I tried to skip over it that night when I went to listen at mother’s door. Oh dear, and the carpet is split here too. Marcia might have got new carpets for the stairs instead of titivating our rooms.”
“Marcia only thinks of what will please others,” said Ethel.
“For goodness’ sake, don’t praise her too much,” said Molly, “or I shall turn round. I always do when people are overpraised.”
A door was opened. It led into their mother’s room. Marcia stood outside.