Nancy felt rather foolish, as any girl would, in spite of the way Betty complimented her, for back of it all she was sure, quite positive the real point of the talk lay in the need of Rosa for healthy companionship. Not that Nancy wasn’t grateful for the confidence and for the gifts, but because she really wasn’t “an old lady” and hated anything that made her feel like one.
“Rosa is with her daddy now, so I’m stealing this little chat with you,” was Mrs. Fernell’s next remark. “I do love Rosa—all our family always loved her mother,” said Betty, much to Nancy’s surprise. “My sister was Katherine’s school chum, and that’s how Fred and I became acquainted.”
“Oh,” replied Nancy, the single syllable embodying her surprise.
“Yes.” A deep sigh from Betty was also significant. “But Rosa has proved a problem. She resents, it seems, my marrying her father, although I have tried quietly to show her how little I intend to interfere with her life.”
She knew it would come; it just had to, and she couldn’t have expected to escape it, although at the moment Nancy hated her position as confidante, against her most loyal feelings for Rosa. That was just it; she couldn’t escape it. Presently her care of Rosa would be thrust at her, just as if she had been some kind of nurse.
“It will work out all right; I’m sure, however,” went on the pretty one, “if only we can keep Rosa away from certain influences. You see, Nancy, this is an unpleasant topic for me, naturally,” and the soft voice fell into deep blue velvet tones, “but as I am going away, and as I really do stand very close to Rosalind, I feel you should understand.”
“Yes,” was all Nancy could think of saying.
“There was a girl here—you have probably heard of her, Orilla Rigney,” began Mrs. Fernell again, although she was still standing, “and she is responsible for much of Rosa’s aggressiveness. You see, she and her mother lived here as sort of care-takers, and your Uncle Frederic was so kind to them they felt the place was and should be their home. The girl has tried to injure me ever since I came here. As if I could have anything in common with them.” Here Mrs. Fernell paused, haughtily. “Unfortunately she has gotten into Rosa’s confidence, with a lot of silly nonsense,” she continued after a moment. “Well, Nancy, you see I am piling troubles upon your head, but Rosa is a great baby in spite of her decided ways. So just have a good time, wear the pretty clothes, and when you write to your mother tell her we hope to find her in the big country across the water. Frederic Fernell thinks his sister is just one woman without equal, and I feel I know her through his admiration and love—”
This sudden turn in the glimpse of Betty’s character left Nancy simply gasping with surprise. She wasn’t at all the foolish, pretty doll she had been pictured, she did love Rosa, and Rosa was simply crazy to be so opposed to her, thought Nancy.
One thing was certain, however, nobody, just nobody, had a good word for Orilla. Jealousy is an awful thing, Nancy reflected, for even in her short life she had heard of its offences and, of course, Orilla was jealous.