She had been depressed all day; Peggy’s marriage and departure to a foreign country meant more to her than most persons dreamed. They had been intimate and devoted friends since they were tiny girls, and Bettina believed their friendship could never again have its old value.
The fact that Peggy appeared to have found her place in the scheme of things also affected Bettina, because of late she herself had felt that she must find some more definite outlet for her own life. Her school days were over unless she were to choose some special course of study; this winter in the mountains, delightful as it had been in many respects and not without its useful lessons, nevertheless seemed to be a pause and not a step forward in any particular direction.
Unwilling to confess either to her mother or Camp Fire guardian who would be wounded by the knowledge, Bettina had been far more restless and dissatisfied for the past few months than any one had imagined. This afternoon her restlessness had culminated.
Kneeling down, she fastened on her skates.
Twilight was approaching, the distant snow-covered hills were amazing studies in purple, from pale violet to the deeper tones. The surface of the lake itself bore the reflections of a crystal ball.
Bettina started skating slowly, wishing to pursue her own train of thought. She knew what her mother expected of her; they had been discussing the subject this afternoon, and Bettina not only recognized the reasonableness of her mother’s position, but would have been hurt had she felt otherwise.
Naturally after two years of absence abroad, her father and mother looked forward to her returning to Washington and entering society. She was no longer young enough to plead for more time, the war was past and she had been allowed to devote herself to its service. This winter in the Adirondacks was due to a special set of circumstances, her Camp Fire guardian’s illness, her father’s long absence from Washington, and her mother’s desire to be with Mrs. Burton and her group of Camp Fire girls. In another six weeks her mother probably would join her father in the west and conclude the trip with him. She would then go back to Washington and they were looking forward to a happy summer together in their own cottage by the Blue Lagoon. So far Bettina knew nothing save happiness in the prospect before her, but after the summer, her mother had been planning this very afternoon a brilliant winter in Washington society.
Why could she not feel the interest that any other normal girl in the world would feel in such a future, with a successful marriage as its climax?
Yet Bettina knew she only dreaded it with an even deeper antagonism than she had felt in the past.
If only she and her brother, Tony, might have changed places? Tony was as strikingly handsome as their mother was beautiful and possessed her social grace and charm of manner.