“You are a splendid girl, Rhoda!” Nan
cried. “You stopped the car.”
“I didn’t see that you showed any white
feather, Nan,” urged Bess Harley.
“Ah, but Rhoda was more than brave. She
knew what to do. We’d have gone off the
track and pitched over that wall probably, if it had
depended on me to stop this old car,” declared
Nan generously.
AFTERNOON TEA
The girls from Lakeview Hall were not likely to forget
their experience on the car for many a long day.
And they were honestly appreciative of the fact that
Rhoda Hammond, the girl from Rose Ranch, had saved
their lives.
But they did not really know how to show Rhoda that,
in spite of her bad start at the Hall, the attitude
of at least the party of girls who had been with her
in the electric car, had changed toward her.
Nan put her arms about the Western girl and kissed
her warmly. She could do that, for from the start
she had been kind to the girl from Rose Ranch.
But the others hesitated. Rhoda was not a shallow
girl. She did not turn easily from one attitude
to another.
The unconscious motorman had been picked up and laid
on a seat in the car, and the conductor had run them
into Freeling. John was there put in a hospital
ambulance. That was all they could do for him.
The doctors said he had been walking around suffering
from pneumonia for several days. The girls sent
him flowers and some other luxuries and comforts when
he was better.
But what could they do for Rhoda?
“I don’t think we had better try to do
anything for her,” Nan finally said,
after suggestions had been discussed ranging from
presenting Rhoda with a gold medal to falling down
on their knees and begging her forgiveness.
“We have nothing really to ask her pardon for.
It actually was her own stupidity that made her begin
so unfortunately among us. She, perhaps, can’t
see that. Or, if she does, she is too obstinate
to admit it.”
“Why, Nan!” cried warm-hearted Bess Harley,
who, once moved in the right direction, could not
do too much for the object of her approval. “Why,
Nan! you speak as though you did not like Rhoda, after
all. You are the only one who stood up for her
all those weeks.”
“When did I stand up for her?” demanded
Nan. “I would not treat her unkindly.
But I have thought all the time she was in the wrong.
And there is no use going to Rhoda and telling her
we were wrong and that we are sorry. That would
not only be a falsehood, but it would do no lasting
good.”
“Hear! Hear!” cried Amelia.
“Minerva Sherwood speaks.”
“I guess Nan has got the ‘wise’
of it,” agreed Laura. “No matter
how well we may think of Rhoda, she would be equally
offended if we all suddenly changed toward her in
a way to make her conspicuous. We must begin
treating her naturally.”
