But somehow as she looked at her, the subtle danger of Orilla’s secret meetings with Rosa flooded into Nancy’s mind. For her, Nancy, to make an active enemy of Orilla would surely mean that much more danger to Rosa, whereas any possible compromise might at least insure Nancy some knowledge of the other girl’s affairs.
She was thinking fast. Not that the term idealist (applied to her by Betty) in any way entered into her reasoning, but simply because she was Nancy of the disciplined mind, taught to think twice when in any serious predicament. And more than that, she had been cautioned by her mother, always to put down the proud spirit of revenge and in its place to plant courage. Courage to do that which was hardest, as it would invariably prove to be that which was best.
To understand Nancy as she was acting now, it is necessary to understand all this, although to her it was merely doing the thing that seemed best.
“Do you mean,” she said very slowly, “that you do not want Rosa to know you have been here?”
“Yes,” snapped the girl, “just like you don’t want her to know you’ve been here.”
“But I don’t care; why should I?” Nancy could not help that flare of defiance.
“You were trying on her new clothes, weren’t you?”
“What’s wrong about that?”
“Don’t try to sneak, I’m in a hurry. Is it a bargain or isn’t it?”
“What?” blurted Nancy, now a little bit frightened lest her chance to help Rosa might suddenly vanish.