Bettina believed she had neither; it was not merely a matter of appearance; there were persons who thought her reasonably good looking in her own fashion. Besides, she and her Camp Fire guardian had discussed the subject many times, and she herself had witnessed in Mrs. Burton a triumph of personality which always transcends mere physical beauty. Her own distaste was a far more important factor. In the midst of a group of society people Bettina knew she always was obliged to fight a sense of awkwardness, of shyness, and that she had no conversation and no animation. She could only prove a disappointment to her mother, and yet was it not fair that she should make the experiment? Against her own judgment and desire, her mother had allowed her the past two years of freedom in her Camp Fire life.
Bettina was skating more rapidly than at first, and without her knowledge her depression was fading. The cold air stung her cheeks, but her blood flowed warmly; this portion of the lake was smooth as glass. Finally a smile appeared at the corners of her lips. Perhaps she was taking herself and her own future too seriously, as this was one of the faults of her character. Moreover, doubtless she was spoiled. Never had she to contend against real difficulties such as many other girls face. Marguerite Arnot, for instance, friendless and oftentimes ill, for years had been forced to earn her own living.
If at this instant Bettina could only have beheld herself with other eyes she would have appreciated her own good fortune more keenly.
Her skating costume was of the color she most affected, a soft, deep-toned blue serge, neither light nor dark blue, with a short skirt and coat. About her throat she was wearing a beaver fur and on her head a cap of beaver nearly the shade of her own hair, one of her mother’s Christmas gifts, and carrying a small muff.
Her complexion, at times too pale, was now a lovely combination of white and rose. Tall and slender, Bettina was always exceptionally graceful, but more conspicuous than any other characteristic was her air of high breeding.
“Are you a part of the wind? Won’t you please pause and wait for a fellow mortal who has not your swift skill?” Bettina heard a voice behind her calling, and turning skated slowly back.
“But I thought you were off for a walk, Mr. Hale; the cabin was nearly deserted when I escaped?”
“Yes, I was, Miss Bettina, but our walk was over a half hour ago and I inquired of your mother what had become of you. I have been following you for the past fifteen minutes. You observe that I skate abominably and yet I was determined to catch up.”
Bettina extended her hand.
“You are a bit out of practice; perhaps if you take my hand I can be of some assistance. It was kind of you to care to join me.”