CHAPTER XIII A PARTY CAPE OF BLUE

It was two days later that the box of pretty things arrived from Boston. Nancy was glad that it had been addressed to Mrs. Frederic Fernell, for had her name been upon it, even under the other, she would not have known how to explain to Rosa.

And its coming brought a welcome relief in the feud which seemed to exist between Margot and Rosa, consequent upon that little private interview which had occurred after the walk in the woods.

Rosa had been sullen almost to the point of rudeness, but by this time Nancy had learned to regard her whims as mere childishness, a determination not “to give in” which was about as strong as good pie crust—and just as easily broken.

That Rosa’s running off without giving an148 account of her business was the real cause of Margot’s misgivings, Nancy was now well aware, for Rosa would slip away without any explanation, about every time she found the chance of getting a ride into town without taking her own car, her own chauffeur, Margot or even Nancy.

At first this hurt Nancy’s feelings. She was plainly being slighted. When Dell, Gar and Paul would come over or phone over for the girls to go off to see a tennis match, go swimming in the best part of the lake, which was some little distance from their cottages, or even go berrying, which was the thing Nancy best liked to do—to all or any of this Rosa would very likely find an excuse. And then, when some obscure person with a little flivver would happen along, she would suddenly remember something very important to be procured, and dash off.

Nancy was forming her own opinions of these unexplained flights. She noticed the messages that preceded them, she noticed Rosa trying to gather a certain amount of149 money, even asking Nancy to lend her a few dollars until she could cash her allowance, and she noticed more than any of these unfavorable symptoms, that Rosa had headaches, real severe headaches that made her cheeks burn, her eyes smart and feel altogether miserable—these always followed one of the flurried trips to town.

The advent of the box of pretty things was, therefore, a most welcome diversion, and now as Nancy and Rosa both tore off the wrappings, they chuckled merrily over what they hoped would be the contents.

“You must choose first,” said Rosa generously. “You may have just whatever you like best.”

Nancy was not sure that she would do this, and she felt almost guilty in her deception, for Mrs. Betty had very plainly said that the box was to be for Nancy.

Presently the papers had all been removed, the tissues torn apart, and there was then revealed such a gorgeous display of lovely, colorful things, that Rosa and Nancy fairly150 danced in delight over them.

“You take this,” pressed Rosa. And then: “Oh, it must be for you, for it’s too tiny for me.” The article just referred to was a straight-line dress of tub silk, in a variegated stripe that was charming. Nancy took it, held it up and said how lovely she thought it was.

“And these undies,” exclaimed Rosa again. “Betty must have bought those for you,” as she passed over the dainty silk under things, “because I wear a special kind. These are lovely, though. Don’t you think so?”

“Oh, they are be-u-tee-ful!” declared Nancy. “Hasn’t Betty wonderful taste?”

“Yes, that’s what she has the very most of—taste,” said Rosa a little critically. “But then, she needs it. How would she look without it? Oh, see here!” as a little sport hat was dug out of its wrappings. “Now, someone has to have her hair bobbed,” and she attempted to put the hat on her head. It stood up on top, as hats used to when women wore full skirts.

151 The girls went into gales of laughter at the effect. Then Nancy tried on the yellow felt hat, and, of course, it fitted her.

“For you again,” declared Rosa, still happily expectant herself.

Then there was a darling little party dress of black roses in georgette, over yellow. This, obviously, was also for Nancy, until she began to feel embarrassed that nothing of Rosa’s size was forthcoming.

Finally Rosa held up something blue. It was a cape—a lovely soft, fluffy cape of blue peach-blow cloth, trimmed with white fur.

“Oh! How darling!” both girls exclaimed in perfect harmony.

It was lovely. Almost like a piece of blue sky with a little fleecy cloud of white fur at the neck. Each of the girls held it; they fondled it, caressed it. Both of them loved it, it would fit both. Rosa decided she could wear that, and Nancy secretly tried to keep back the wish that she herself might have it.

She had always dreamed of just such a cape as that.

152 “It goes beautifully with my shade of hair, doesn’t it,” Rosa prattled. “And I adore that tone of blue. Oh, Nan, you can have everything else, but I’m so glad Betty thought to get this for me! I’m going to love her for it. Maybe I have been mean, as you say, Nan, and maybe Betty does love me, after all.” And thereat the cape became the property of Rosa, while poor, disappointed Nancy applauded.

If ever a girl’s heart can suddenly turn to ice and then try to choke her, that seemed to be what was happening just then to Nancy.

That cape! That precious, adorable cape, that she had always secretly dreamed of and that she could have made such wonderful use of! It was to her like a picture from her first fairy book.

Her mother or even Miss Manners (the loving “Manny” who was away off this summer) could have made dresses, pretty under things, and perhaps any of the other lovely articles, but a peach-blow cape, trimmed with white fur, seemed beyond the reach forever of poor Nancy.

153 “Don’t you love it?” persisted Rosa, flirting around the glorious blue wings, like a great live bird.

“Yes, I do,” said Nancy, too truthfully.

“I’m sorry now that we didn’t plan to go down to the hotel to-night. I can’t rest until I show this off. Not that I haven’t a pretty party cape, for I have. Have you one, Nancy?”

“No, not yet,” faltered Nancy. “I’ve never needed one.”

“Then, you can have my red one. It will look stunning on you with your dark hair. It’s called love-apple, that’s tomato red, you know,” explained Rosa, still flirting with the lovely new mantle.

“Oh, thank you, Rosa, but I really don’t go to parties yet, you know,” replied Nancy. She never cared for red in coats or capes, especially tomato red.

“It’s quite gorgeous, with chiffon fliers, like wings when you walk. I’m sure none of your friends could have anything more elaborate—”

“That’s just it, Rosa,” interrupted Nancy,154 “I couldn’t wear things as elaborate as yours. They would look just as if you had given them to me.”

“Oh, of course, if you feel that way about it; all right,” replied the cousin a little stiffly. And that ended the discussion upon capes.

Somehow the joy that came in the box had exploded like a toy balloon, but Nancy tried to make herself think of the importance of Rosa’s changed attitude toward Betty.

“If the cape does that,” she prompted herself, “surely I can give it up.”

Still, she could not forget how much she would have loved to own it. And it really was hers.

Hours passed bringing a keen sense of loneliness to Nancy. She wasn’t having much fun—this sort of life, although it included so much that she could not have had at home, also lacked much that she would have had.

Romping about freely with her girl friends in the little summer colonies, doing unusual things, some of which had turned out wonderfully important for mere girls to accomplish,155 and, above all, that surrounding of loved ones—these were the things and conditions that Nancy missed.

Not that she didn’t love Rosa, for she really did, but because Rosa was so very hard to understand, and was apt to do almost anything reckless, foolish and even risky.

Pitying herself a little, Nancy gave in to her homesickness. She refused to go over to Durand’s with Rosa after dinner, she refused to take a walk with the suspecting Margot, who must have understood the signs she could not have helped noticing about Nancy, she even refused to listen to the radio, and decided to go to her own room—and read.

Passing Rosa’s room she saw the precious blue cape thrown carelessly over a chair. The sight of it brought on a new fit of bitterness, and she dashed into the room, grabbed up the cape, hugged it, as if it were her own, then threw it swiftly over her shoulders.

There was no one in that part of the house. Rosa had gone over to Durand’s and Nancy felt free to indulge in the coveted joy.

156 It was lovely! She stood under the big soft lights and gazed in the broad mirror, spellbound.

“It’s mine,” she whispered, “and I’ll always make believe I’m wearing it.”

Then came the test—Ted’s test.

Glad or sorry? Was she honestly, truly glad or sorry that she had not told Rosa all that Betty had told her about the contents of that box?

Rosa felt so kindly now toward Betty, and Betty would have bought her any sort of a cape she had wished for, could she have only known!

Again she whirled around and hugged closer the soft, white fur collar.

Then she heard a step, a very light step, and turning quickly, she found herself facing Orilla Rigney!