This was the first time that Nancy had noticed any depth to Orilla’s character, and she had continually wondered where the educational influences, said to have been provided by her uncle, had been hidden in the girl’s personality. But the confession of her morbid, morose state of mind was plainly the answer. She had fought down culture, choosing to be simply a wild girl of the mountains.
“My mother always insists upon us talking things out,” said Nancy quietly. “It’s so much better to share our worries—”
“I know that now. I feel like a different girl, just from talking to you, and you’re only a kid,” said Orilla, again betraying her disregard of polite English. “I’m through with secrets, Nancy,” she continued, jumping up suddenly from the bed, with evident nervousness. “One secret leads to another until I am fairly smothered in them. Now, this one is not so heavy, but there—are—more.”
CHAPTER XXIII
SHEDDING SECRETS
Orilla was now moving about the room in such an excited manner that Nancy became alarmed!
“Come on out, Orilla,” she begged. “I really have stayed too long. Rosa will be back—”
“All right. Let’s go. But I want to tell you that I broke the fern stand—Mrs. Betty’s, you know,” Orilla said, her voice raising beyond the pitch of security. “I came back that night—mother was to be away a week and I came up here for that one night—and I had forgotten my key. I was so mad to have to go back home all alone and it was late, you know, that I just Smashed that fancy stand for revenge!”
“Orilla! That lovely fernery!” gasped Nancy.
“Yes, I know it does seem cowardly,” admitted the girl, “but my head was splitting—”