“But, Rosa,” Nancy insisted, “Betty said she would love to get things for you if you would only let her. And surely, when you admired the cape—”
“Oh, yes, I know. You being Nancy, and all that,” said Rosa, meaningly. “Well, I’ll forgive you. You did succeed in getting me to listen to reason and now I’ll try to be civil to Betty.”
“You would have been, anyhow,” said Nancy. “Because you were bound to be more reasonable—”
“I’m not trying to compliment you, little dear, so don’t try so desperately hard to shut me off. But all the same, look—look at my figger! Ain’t it just grand!” and Rosa strutted again before the patient mirror making sure doubly sure that she was quite genteel.
“I suppose you’ll think I’m complimenting you if I tell you how well you look,” retorted Nancy. “But I’m sure you have gone down twenty pounds!”
“And a half,” flashed Rosa. “Twenty and one-half pounds less, and my clothes are falling off me. Won’t dad and Betty howl?”
“But you’ve got to keep up your walking, your tennis and non-candy schedule,” Nancy reminded her. “Don’t forget that. All right, don’t answer, please, I have heaps more to tell you about Orilla and we’re miles off the track.”
“My turn. I’ve get to tell now; you listen. First about the blue cape. You’ve got to have that. No, don’t object,” as Nancy seemed about to do so. “I feel like a thief now. To have taken that from you,” declared Rosa.
“I wish you would keep it. Just to show Betty how you liked her choice,” Nancy argued.
“I won’t. I care more about your choice. Besides, I can wear something else she bought, so don’t worry. But about Orilla. You said she had let down the bars on all secrets? That we can tell?”