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 an 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 of 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 fairly 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.
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.
“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.
“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, “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, 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.
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!