“I can’t help it. Everything has got to wait—until to-morrow. Tell her I’ll be here in the morning—if I’m able—”
“Orilla, I can’t let you go,” interposed Nancy. “I’m afraid you’re sick—”
“No, I’m not, really. I have these headaches often, and bringing you into my room, you see—”
“Yes, I understand,” said Nancy kindly. “And if you feel that perhaps, as you say, you had better get quiet. All right; I’ll tell Rosa. Don’t worry that she’ll find fault; she always speaks well of you, Orilla.”
“Yes, little Rosa’s all right, but silly. She was so ashamed of being fat—why—” and a little laugh escaped Orilla’s lips. “Wasn’t she foolish?”
Nancy heard voices from the roadway just as Orilla slipped into her boat and paddled off. Finding the secret room had been such a sudden revelation that Nancy could scarcely understand it all even yet. That Orilla should have so loved that room, and that she had been coming to it secretly for so long a time, seemed incredible.
“Uncle Frederic would have let her have it, I’m sure,” Nancy reasoned, “and I’m going to ask him to,” she determined, when the unmistakable voice of Rosa floated in through the hedge.
It was going to be exciting, Nancy knew, this news to Rosa. It would surely be met with one of Rosa’s typical outbursts, so she decided to postpone the telling until Rosa was safely, if not quietly, indoors.
“Drydens want us to come to their hotel some night,” Rosa reported, “and we must go. Nancy, they think I’m thin enough. What do you think of that?” and Rosa took a look in the mirror to help Nancy’s answer.
“Calm yourself, Rosa,” said Nancy importantly. “I’ve got such news—”