Whats a little cheap popularity?
Mrs. Harvey sounded annoyed.
Its everything when youre eighteen, said Marjorie emphatically. Ive done my best. Ive been polite and Ive made men dance with her, but they just wont stand being bored. When I think of that gorgeous coloring wasted on such a ninny, and think what Martha Carey could do with it oh!
Theres no courtesy these days.
Mrs. Harveys voice implied that modern situations were too much for her. When she was a girl all young ladies who belonged to nice families had glorious times.
Well, said Marjorie, no girl can permanently bolster up a lame-duck visitor, because these days its every girl for herself. Ive even tried to drop hints about clothes and things, and shes been furious given me the funniest looks. Shes sensitive enough to know shes not getting away with much, but Ill bet she consoles herself by thinking that shes very virtuous and that Im too gay and fickle and will come to a bad end. All unpopular girls think that way. Sour grapes! Sarah Hopkins refers to Genevieve and Roberta and me as gardenia girls! Ill bet shed give ten years of her life and her European education to be a gardenia girl and have three or four men in love with her and be cut in on every few feet at dances.
It seems to me, interrupted Mrs. Harvey rather wearily, that you ought to be able to do something for Bernice. I know shes not very vivacious.
Marjorie groaned.
Vivacious! Good grief! Ive never heard her say anything to a boy except that its hot or the floors crowded or that shes going to school in New York next year. Sometimes she asks them what kind of car they have and tells them the kind she has. Thrilling!
There was a short silence and then Mrs. Harvey took up her refrain:
All I know is that other girls not half so sweet and attractive get partners. Martha Carey, for instance, is stout and loud, and her mother is distinctly common. Roberta Dillon is so thin this year that she looks as though Arizona were the place for her. Shes dancing herself to death.
But, mother, objected Marjorie impatiently, Martha is cheerful and awfully witty and an awfully slick girl, and Robertas a marvellous dancer. Shes been popular for ages!
Mrs. Harvey yawned.
I think its that crazy Indian blood in Bernice, continued Marjorie. Maybe shes a reversion to type. Indian women all just sat round and never said anything.
Go to bed, you silly child, laughed Mrs. Harvey. I wouldnt have told you that if Id thought you were going to remember it. And I think most of your ideas are perfectly idiotic, she finished sleepily.
There was another silence, while Marjorie considered whether or not convincing her mother was worth the trouble. People over forty can seldom be permanently convinced of anything. At eighteen our convictions are hills from which we look; at forty-five they are caves in which we hide.
Having decided this, Marjorie said good night. When she came out into the hall it was quite empty.
III
While Marjorie was breakfasting late next day Bernice came into the room with a rather formal good morning, sat down opposite, stared intently over and slightly moistened her lips.
Whats on your mind? inquired Marjorie, rather puzzled.
Bernice paused before she threw her hand-grenade.
I heard what you said about me to your mother last night.
Marjorie was startled, but she showed only a faintly heightened color and her voice was quite even when she spoke.
Marjorie was startled, but she showed only a faintly heightened color and her voice was quite even when she spoke.
Where were you?
In the hall. I didnt mean to listen at first.
After an involuntary look of contempt Marjorie dropped her eyes and became very interested in balancing a stray corn-flake on her finger.
I guess Id better go back to Eau Claire if Im such a nuisance. Bernices lower lip was trembling violently and she continued on a wavering note: Ive tried to be nice, and and Ive been first neglected and then insulted. No one ever visited me and got such treatment.
Marjorie was silent.
But Im in the way, I see. Im a drag on you. Your friends dont like me. She paused, and then remembered another one of her grievances. Of course I was furious last week when you tried to hint to me that that dress was unbecoming. Dont you think I know how to dress myself?
No, murmured Marjorie less than half-aloud.
What?
I didnt hint anything, said Marjorie succinctly. I said, as I remember, that it was better to wear a becoming dress three times straight than to alternate it with two frights.
Do you think that was a very nice thing to say?
I wasnt trying to be nice. Then after a pause: When do you want to go?
Bernice drew in her breath sharply.
Oh! It was a little half-cry.
Marjorie looked up in surprise.
Didnt you say you were going?
Yes, but
Oh, you were only bluffing!
They stared at each other across the breakfast-table for a moment. Misty waves were passing before Bernices eyes, while Marjories face wore that rather hard expression that she used when slightly intoxicated undergraduates were making love to her.