“Within three or four days,” replied Ruth briefly. “I’ll let you know as soon as I hear from her.” Ruth hoped Blanche would take this last assurance as a courteous protest against further quizzing.
“I am sure you will. I won’t bother you any more about it.” Blanche sighed and looked meekly grateful. “Thank you ever so much.” She turned and sped down the hall to her room, leaving Ruth to stare moodily after her, wondering for the fortieth time, “Is she really sincere?”
Entering her room, her troubled eyes met Emmy’s quizzical glance. From her position before the dressing table, Emmy had swung about in her chair at the sound of the closing door. “Well?” she drawled.
“I don’t know whether it’s ‘well’ or not.” Still in her kimono, Ruth seated herself on her bed, chin in hands. “Blanche didn’t like it at all when I told her about Marian. She started to fuss, then turned around and put on a humble face. Now, what made her do that? If she felt queerly about Marian’s being a stranger to her, then that might explain it. But it certainly looked as though she was peeved and tried to hide it for fear of making me cross. I’d far rather she had been frank and said what she started to say. I hate pretense.”
Emmy shrugged her shoulders. It was on her tongue to say, “Then steer clear of Blanche Shirly.” Ruth’s dejection forbade it, however. She realized that her chum was baring her troubled soul in a fashion quite foreign to herself. It was not Ruth’s way to advocate a measure and then renege. She understood, if Ruth did not, that the latter’s honest nature, which bade her distrust Blanche, was warring against her belief in living up to her obligations as a Torch Bearer.
“Don’t worry about it, Ruth,” Emmy sturdily put away her own doubts in order to still her friend’s misgivings. “I’m sorry I said anything to make you doubt Blanche. Let’s agree to believe her honest until she proves herself a villain. She may give us all an agreeable surprise by behaving beautifully every minute of the reunion.”
“I hope she will. I wish I could say, ‘I’m sure she will,’ but truly, I’m not a bit sure of it. No one except you is ever going to know that, though. It’s splendid in you to—to—” Ruth paused in sudden embarrassment.
“To accept Blanche so peacefully after what I said the other night,” supplemented Emmy, smiling.
“Well, yes,” admitted Ruth candidly. “I suppose that was what I really meant. I didn’t intend to say it so bluntly, though. I might as well own up that I was more afraid of you than of the others. It was Jane who surprised me.”
Emmy laughed. “I knew Jane would be up in arms,” she asserted. “She always takes things more seriously than Sarah or Frances. I wonder that she ever forgave me for the hateful way I treated Marian. That’s the reason,” Emmy’s beautiful eyes grew somber, “I am determined to do my level best for Blanche. I owe it to you and to myself.”