CHAPTER IV FROM THE NEXT PILE OF ROCKS

Grave misgivings flooded into Nancy’s mind. She had known of Rosalind’s peculiarities, had often heard her mother express keen regret that she, Uncle Frederic’s own sister, could not have done something to supply the mother-need for Rosalind when Katherine Fernell was taken from her daughter.

And it seemed more unfortunate than otherwise, that Uncle Fred’s position guaranteed so much hired care for Rosalind, because it was this fact that had separated her from Mrs. Brandon, Nancy’s mother herself having been separated from her brother through a circumstance not unlike this very issue.

Not that Nancy bothered now to recall all this, but just because the “why” of her own circumstances compared oddly with the “why not” of Rosalind’s. It appeared that Rosalind40 did not know why she should not “sneak off to ride with Gar” when she was supposed to be following all the rules of Fernlode, which must have forbidden this.

“I suppose it is not that I’m any better than Rosa,” the puzzled Nancy was thinking, “but just because mother made me think differently.”

“Nance, I suppose you are tired from that long, dirty train ride,” suggested Rosalind, who was getting out a wrap for herself and another for Nancy. “Suppose we just scout around a little?”

“Scout around?”

“Yeppy. First let’s make sure you’re acquainted with your room, because you might want to come in before I do,” said Rosalind. “Here’s all the night stuff, but I don’t suppose you try to bathe and scour off fat as I do. At any rate, do just as you please. Lock your door and yell through the keyhole at Margot, and if she asks for me—”

“Won’t you be—in?”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Rosalind hurried to41 assure the puzzled girl. “I’m just preparing for emergencies. You see, I always expect them, but they somehow seldom come.” A little sigh took years from Rosalind’s heavy shoulders. She was acting now like such a very little girl, just sighing for romance and adventure.

On the big front porch, they tried the swing. As ever Rosalind cuddled up to Nancy in that eager, impulsive way that made Nancy feel sort of old. She, not being demonstrative herself, leaving that prerogative for the small brother Ted, could not at once get used to Rosalind’s effusions.

“You see, Nance,” bubbled Rosalind, “I’m going to do something won-der-ful!” This last word was dragged out like a tape line measuring thrills. “I waited until you came—you see, Orilla is really won-der-ful. She’s the very smartest thing. And you see, Nancy, you can’t realize the curse of being fat.”

A peal of laughter from the amused Nancy checked this.

“You can’t really mean it, Rosa,” she said.42 “Being fat isn’t anything. You’re just growing, and you won’t always be so—so stout,” the visitor assured her cousin, kindly.

“No, you just bet I won’t, not if I know it,” declared Rosa, who even then chewed a chocolate drop. “I’m going to get thin while the folks are in Europe. Wait until you see Betty, then you’ll understand. She’s just eel-ly, and she loves slippery clothes, the shimmery-shimmery kind. How could she ever own me as a step-daughter?” Again the catchy little sigh betrayed Rosa’s state of mind. Nancy was beginning to wonder if she might not be a little bit jealous of the famously beautiful Betty.

“But don’t you know,” cautioned Nancy, feeling more and more like a grandmother giving advice, “it’s awfully dangerous to—to take off fat too suddenly.”

“Don’t believe a word of it,” declared Rosa. “I’d take a chance on reducing pounds per day if I knew how. You see,” shifting the cushion and kicking the swing into action, “I inherit it from Grandmother Cashion, mother’s43 mother. She was fat. I have her picture. And she had curly hair like mine, so of course I just had to be like her,” argued the surprising girl.

“But you also got the curls,” suggested Nancy, in genuine admiration.

“Which I don’t want. Orilla says they make me look fatter, more babyish, you know.”

“I suppose Orilla has thin hair,” Nancy could not resist saying, for she was already convinced of Orilla’s methods.

“’Tis straightish, rather straggily,” conceded Rosa. “But, you see, Orilla doesn’t have to be pretty, she’s so smart.”

“What is she so smart about?” pressed Nancy.

“Oh, well, ’most everything,” floundered Rosa. “She intends to be a nurse, no, a beauty doctor,” she corrected herself. “That’s why she’s helping me.”

“How’s she doing it?” demanded Nancy, frankly.

“Oh, it’s sort of a secret, but, of course, I’ll44 tell you later on,” agreed Rosa.

“Does your—does Betty know?”

“Mercy me, no! She’s the very last person on earth to know,” said Rosa tragically. “I’m going to surprise her, and dad. It’s all beautifully planned and I’m just waiting for them to sail, then I’ll sail in.”

“You’re an awful lot like our Ted,” Nancy told Rosa, a compliment unqualified.

“Is he fat?”

“A little. But I don’t mean that way. I mean in making plans. He always has the most wonderful ideas—”

“I’d love Ted. What a shame you didn’t bring him along.”

“He would have been jolly,” agreed the sister wistfully. “But you see, Ted needs to be trained. Being a boy without a father—”

“Just like me being a girl without a mother,” spoke up Rosa. “I’d love to go to camp. In fact, father almost agreed, but Betty! You see Betty believes in white hands and slim ankles.”

“Oh,” said Nancy.

45 “Want to go around to the other side of the house? We can watch the boats from there. We have a motorboat but that’s one thing dad is strict about. He just won’t let me go on the water at night without him—imagine his having to be along always. And he won’t let me go in a canoe even in broad daylight, unless I almost swear I’ll stay in the cove, or just hug the edge. Dad is such a darling, I never would think of breaking my word to him,” declared Rosa, her hand bruising Nancy’s arm in making the declaration.

“We do feel that way when we love folks, don’t we?” supplied Nancy. “Mother hardly asks me to promise anything, except where something might be dangerous, but it’s fun to keep a promise as well as to break it, if you just think that way. I’ve a chum who spends most of her time planning to fool folks. Maybe I’m old fashioned, but I’ve tried it and it didn’t turn out so funny. Once when I tried to fool Ted by locking him out, he just climbed in a window I couldn’t reach, and I came pretty near having to stay out in the rain all46 night. You see, Miss Manners, we call her Manny—is to us about like Margot is to you. Except, of course, she isn’t a servant, she’s a dear friend we found last year out at Long Leigh. We had a great time last summer,” Nancy continued. “I’ll have to tell you about it some time.”

“I’d love to hear. You had a shop or something, didn’t you?”

“Yes, a funny little store we turned into almost everything but a church,” laughed Nancy. They were moving around the winding porch and Nancy felt relieved that Rosa seemed to be more contented than she had been at dinner time. Surely she wasn’t thinking of stealing off any place?

“Doesn’t the lake look lovely with all the boats lighted up?” Rosa exclaimed. “With the big black mountains at the back and the little firefly boats in front—I guess this is one of the most beautiful lakes in America,” she finished.

“It is glorious,” agreed Nancy. “But it makes me feel sort of awe-stricken,” she admitted.

47 “Not homesick? That isn’t just a nice way of saying you’re homesick, Nance?” asked Rosa solicitously.

“Oh, no indeed, Rosa,” denied Nancy. “But I was just thinking how dark it can be under all these trees.”

“And this house hasn’t a bright spot in it,” added Rosa. “I wonder why folks build with black beams in forests? And they always seem to. If I were planning a mountain camp I’d have white pine wood and turn yellow paint on with a hose, inside and out,” she declared. A car was coming up the winding drive, its headlights threading their way through the trees in glaring billows.

“There’s Gar!” exclaimed Rosa, joy juggling the words. “I’m so glad he came over! Now, you won’t be homesick.”

“I wasn’t,” defended Nancy. But the car was at the steps now and Rosa was racing off in that direction. The prospect of meeting a strange boy fluttered Nancy, naturally, but Perhaps she would have been more self-conscious had the caller been a girl. Girls are48 supposed to be critical, and Nancy’s wardrobe was not elaborate, but boys—well boys ought to be jolly. She knew that Ted and his little friends would still be when they grew up.

“My cousin, you know, Gar,” Rosa was exclaiming, as the youth in white knickers, with his prep school sweater of violent yellow, came along the porch.

The introductions over, Nancy knew she was going to like Garfield Durand. His manner toward Rosa was that of a big brother, and he did not hesitate to argue against many of her suggestions.

“Can’t take you out, Rosa, unless you’re sure your dad won’t mind,” he said frankly. Then turning to Nancy, “Don’t you think it’s silly to be meeting that Orilla girl—”

“Gar!” came Rosa’s warning. “Please don’t tell all my secrets at once. I’m sorry if I bother you—”

“Oh, now Rose, you know well enough I don’t mean that,” interrupted Gar. “It’s just that you’re so—so easy with Orilla, and she’s a fox, only you won’t believe it,” declared49 the boy, flushing.

An awkward silence followed that remark. It was very plain that Rosa objected to discussing Orilla and her ways before Nancy. It was also quite plain that the boy was trying to avoid something, perhaps a clandestined ride which Rosa seemed bent upon. He didn’t settle himself down as one does who might expect to stay awhile; in fact, he first sat upon the porch rail, next straddled a bench, then flung himself into a rocker and seemed to find it impossible to obtain any position suitable to his turbulent mood.

“It’s certainly early enough now to take a drive,” Suggested Rosa, pointedly.

“Oh, surely,” agreed Gar. “Can’t I take you and your cousin over to the Point, or some place?”

“Like a dear,” replied Rosa. “I’ll run and break the news to Margot. She still believes in you, Gar,” and then Nancy found herself chatting to the boy, free from the unpleasant little discussion and at ease, because he seemed so frankly boyish and so eager to take50 her for the proposed drive.

“Don’t mind my scrapping with Rose,” he remarked. “She’s such a kid and so easily influenced. And you see, Mr. Fernell trusts our folks to sort of keep track of her.”

“Of course. That’s splendid,” agreed Nancy. “You see I’m sort of a stranger myself, and I guess Rosalind has been a lot alone—”

“You’re the very thing for her, and maybe just in time,” he said under his breath, with an intention by no means clear to Nancy.

“Just in time!” she thought. “Whatever can that mean?”