“I am, if that’s any good to know. I’m always ashamed, but you don’t have to make it worse, Margot.”
Nancy glanced over at Rosa, who was doing what she usually did in dressing: trying to make her waist line look smaller by actually making it look larger. She was pulling a girdle in so tight that the rebellious little bunches of flesh pouched out in pudgy pockets above and below.
She was ashamed—of being too fat! As Nancy realized this her resentment cooled. She did love Rosalind and perhaps Rosalind loved her. Just because Rosa was too stout and not wise enough to understand that such a thing has little, if anything, to do with personality, her young life was being embittered. She imagined that every one slighted her; that every one laughed at her; that every one was making fun of her. Whereas, she was only a growing girl with her growth unbalanced.
The dark blue dress that Rosa was adjusting might have been a school uniform in the severity of its lines; but Rosa had declared she could only wear dark colors; that Orilla had told her so.
The longer both girls held silence against each other, the harder it was going to be to break it. Nancy was not ungenerous, but she was human, and no girl wants to “give in” when she feels herself to have been the one injured. Margot noticed this set expression, and the girls’ lack of conversation. Also, she noticed Nancy biting her lip.
“Not quarreling with your cousin, I hope, Rosalind,” said the woman severely. “I do believe I shall have to have a talk with your father.”
“He’d love it,” scoffed Rosa, saucily.
“Very well,” said Margot with finality, “I shall.”
The butler had been in twice for the trays and now everything was cleared away. Rosa was dressed, hatted and coated, and she was only pretending to fuss with her hair. Nancy jumped up and with a hasty “I’m going to read, Rosa,” flew into her own room.
She knew this would make matters worse; that the only time to stop a quarrel is before it starts, but Nancy was not equal, just then, to reasonable arguments. All she could see, feel or know, was that she wished she were almost any place else than at Fernlode.