“Faithfully yours,
“ANIELA FONTAINE.”
Never was cordial and polite note couched in more non-committal language. It was sent out by a messenger and Miss Campbell sat painfully up in bed to read it. Both knees and one wrist were swathed in bandages of wintergreen liniment and a hot water bottle lay against one hip,
“Why, I didn’t know the child had left the house,” she exclaimed, when she had finished reading the letter and passed it on to the three remaining Motor Maids. “How did she happen to go alone on a tramp like that? What am I to do? I can’t order her to return without being exceedingly rude, but I do wish Nancy hadn’t been so reckless. She ought never to have left the grounds alone. Surely the garden is quite large enough for exercising in, if anyone wanted to make the effort.”
The little spinster groaned and slipped down among her pillows again.
The girls were silent. Mary secretly sympathized with Nancy. It would be rather fascinating to spend a night in the widow’s interesting home. Elinor disapproved slightly at this unconventional visit, but it is doubtful if she would have declined the invitation if she had been in Nancy’s place. As for Billie, she was puzzled and unhappy. She felt sure that there was something back of the departure of her friend. She wished with all her heart they had made up their differences. She yearned for Nancy and her soul was filled with forebodings. She felt somehow as if Nancy had died. That night, with the sheet over her head, she indulged in a fit of weeping and resolved to settle all differences the first moment they could get alone.
Why should Nancy Brown have unexpectedly grown up like this and become so independent and secretive? Elinor, the eldest of the four girls, had never shown a disposition to have affairs and write notes. For her part, Billie would have liked to go on in the same jolly old way forever, with or without beaux. It was all one to her. But Nancy was different. The society of her friends was no longer an unmixed pleasure and she was beginning to crave more excitement and admiration than was good for her.
The next day was like a dozen of its fellows, wet and muggy. The roads were too slippery for the “Comet,” and as Miss Campbell still kept her bed with rheumatism, it was decided that Billie should go alone for Nancy in a ’riksha.
She was so eager to make up with her friend, that she felt as if the reconciliation had already taken place and her faithful heart was filled with happiness. She had made up her mind to humble herself by offering Nancy an apology. After all, was it the act of true friendship to pick out all the defects and flaws in a friend’s nature?
“A real friend is blind to everything but the best in another friend,” reasoned Billie, as her ’riksha splashed along the road, drawn by Komatsu.