Minerva gave her a suspicious glance, but Molly was beaming kindly upon her with all the warmth of her affectionate nature.
“How do you know that?” she demanded in a somewhat softened tone.
“It was not hard to guess. You said you were disappointed with the girls here because they seemed to be snobs. Now if you hadn’t minded it very much, you never would have mentioned it. Don’t you think the girls are just a little afraid of you? You see, they had heard you were the brightest girl in your school and when they saw all the medals and you talked to them on such deep subjects, they were scared off. They thought, perhaps, you wouldn’t care for them because they didn’t know enough. After all, people’s feeling toward you is just a reflection of what you feel toward them. If you are interested and admire and love them, they are pretty sure to feel the same toward you. You see, I know you can be just as nice and human and everyday as the rest of us—” Molly laid her hand on Minerva’s—“but the others haven’t had a chance yet to find out.”
Minerva’s stiff figure relaxed a little and she leaned against Molly confidingly.
“I do want to be liked,” she whispered. “All my life I’ve wanted it more than anything in the world. But even at Mill Town the girls were afraid of me, just as you say they are here. I might as well own up, as you have guessed it already.”
“But it’s only a question of time now before you make lots of friends,” said Molly, “You are so clever that you’ll find out how to make them like you.”
“But how?”
“Well,” said Molly, “I think people who are sympathetic and who listen more than they talk generally have a good many friends. I’m afraid I’ve talked more than I listened this evening,” she added, pinching Minerva’s cheek.
“But you’ve talked about me,” answered Minerva. Suddenly her face turned very red and her eyes filled with tears. “I shall not wear the medals any more,” she whispered unsteadily. “And—there is something I want to confess. I—I waited for you that night you were on the lake, and I sent an unsigned note to Miss Walker the next day to get even with you because you wouldn’t let me go walking with you.”
Judy, at the piano, was singing a vociferous medley, and Nance was joining in.