the person in front of me even if it's an wfter stranger, I know everyone thinks I'm crazy! And the mildest remark had been answered by, "Oh, I think that's so awf'ly true!" or, "How simply wonderful!" or, "Oh nnnnno!" They were all so animated, and Charlotte was so heavy—good and polite and heavy, heaviest of all when she tried to talk like the other girls. Kate had been sorry for her and exasperated by her. She tried hard to make Charlotte's little parties gay, and they remained proper and polite, sedate—solemn, really. And fluffy clothes on Charlotte were all wrong, with her thick waist, and smooth heavy hair that wouldn't "pomp."
She was better-looking now since she had taken off her glasses. She had a complexion of apples and snow, and people often spoke of her pleasant expression. A respectable number of people always danced with her, but no one ever asked for the encores or the extras. She would dance encore after encore with the same man, applauding heartily at the end of each dance, more heartily than her partner. She was apt to have the supper dance with one of the girls' fathers, or with some "pill" like J. Hartley Harrison. Kate suffered for her, suffered far more than Charlotte.
Never any nonsense about Charlotte. But Kate hadn't known about Charlotte's "crush" on Lilian Simpson, when she went to church just to see her, to try to copy the way she stood, bust out, stomach in, her finger tips on the pew in front, fingers pressed back,
