“Mrs. Richard Harrison. Do you know her?”
Fliss had a funny little sinking feeling. “Yes—a little—oh, yes.”
“I thought you would probably. She’s very young—not more than your age I should say. Now, Fliss,” she caught a fleeting look on her cousin’s face, “I’ll not do anything that is going to make you feel bad.”
“Oh, Ellen, I don’t mean——”
“I know, Fliss—you don’t want to hurt me. You can’t help feeling a little though that you don’t like to have me work for your friends, me being your cousin and all, but you needn’t fuss. No one is going to know I’m your cousin unless you tell them. I decided that long ago.”
Ellen had never been so frank or so expansive and Fliss felt a little ashamed, but somehow vastly relieved. She shifted the blame for her snobbery.
“People are such fools, Ellen.”
“I know.”
With her fears laid to rest, Fliss began to get a glimpse of a silver lining. It wouldn’t be so bad to have Ellen at Cecily’s. She could get information about what Cecily liked, whom she entertained, and learn how to strengthen her friendship with Cecily.
“She must have lovely things,” she began.