She owned, now, that she had been jealous of Dolly’s open admiration for Constance. Then she had called Constance proud and unfeeling. Who had stood Margaret Hamilton’s friend? Who was helping Margery Ainsworth to regain her self-respect? Who had gone to Mrs. O’Flaherty on the first hint of sickness? And had not the doctor declared that the college girls were ignorant of the greater part of her charitable deeds?
“I believe that I have been a big snob,” Mary told herself. “We can only be measured by our inclinations and our deeds. Certainly, even in proportion to my limited means, I have done far less good than Constance. It never occurred to me, for instance, to look up Mrs. O’Flaherty for her own sake, because she might be ill. I only thought of getting my dress.”
Mary never resorted to half-way measures. She now gave as frank and open admiration to Constance as did any of the “diggers;” Dolly and Beth rejoiced over her conversion.
But Beth said, “If she felt at all toward Constance as I now feel toward Margery Ainsworth, when I see Constance wasting her sweetness in that direction, I can sympathize with her. Mary was rather jealous of your affection for Constance, Dolly, and while I do not think that I myself am jealous, I surely hate to see Con lavishing time and patience on Margery.”
“You are sure it is wasted?”
“Yes, I am. Don’t forget that I was Margery’s room-mate. I flatter myself that I know about all that there is to know concerning that young lady.”
“Yet I think that Constance is a tolerably good judge of character. There must be latent possibilities in Margery which you have never discovered.”
Beth shook her head obstinately, but that very day proved the correctness of Dolly’s conclusions and made Beth resolve to be more charitable in her judgments.