“Yes, that is it,” replied Fanny; “she is dramatic in everything. I doubt if she is ever natural or her true self.”
“Fanny!”
“Oh, dear old Martha, don’t be so frightfully prim! I don’t intend to break Rule No. I. Of course I love Betty. As a matter of fact, I have loved her before any of you set eyes on her. She is my very own cousin, and but for father’s strong influence would never have been at this school at all. Still, I repeat that she is dramatic and hardly ever herself.”
“She puzzles me, I confess,” said Martha, a little dubiously; “but then,” she added, “I can’t help yielding to her charm.”
“That is it,” said Fanny—“her charm. But look down deep into your heart, Martha, and tell me if you think her charm healthy.”
“Well, I see nothing wrong about it.” Then Martha became abruptly silent.
“For instance,” said Fanny, pressing a little closer to her companion, “why ever did she make your special protégé Sibyl Ray such a figure of fun last night?”
“I thought Sibyl looked rather pretty.”
“When she entered the room, Martha?”
“Oh no; she was quite hideous then, poor little thing! But Betty soon put that all right; she had very deft fingers.”