“No. Orilla is really the daughter of a nurse who was with Uncle Fred’s first wife, your Aunt Katherine, during her long illness. Orilla lived at Fernlode, and naturally felt it should always be her home. In fact, she even felt that she should have been the proverbial Cinderella, but there was no such idea in the minds of Uncle Fred or Aunt Katherine. Mrs. Rigney, Orilla’s mother, had been very generously paid for her services, and Orilla’s education was also provided for; but the girl seems to hold a bitter grudge against your new Aunt Betty--quite as if uncle Fred’s marriage to her had cut off Orilla’s hopes, you know.”
“Oh, yes,” murmured Nancy. “I can understand that. But I don’t see why Rosa bothers with her.”
“She is, I believe, a rather persistent young lady and it is she who bothers Rosa. However, dear, don’t you worry about that angle of Uncle Fred’s affairs. Just make up your mind to have a wonderful time and so soothe my conscience for leaving you.”
Followed moments, minutes, little hours of tender endearments. The mother cautioning, telling, advising, reminding Nancy of so many and such various possibilities; the daughter questioning--just that, and only with the loving look from the soft, dark eyes, the appeal from her trembling lips, the protection begged by her eager young arms; for Nancy was now quite conscious of the fact that her mother, the great, the wonderful fortress against every possible and every impossible evil, was about to be withdrawn from her life for a time. But time didn’t seem to matter. Two months or two years; it was just the fact, the unavoidable disaster that confronted her.
“Your hat box holds as much as a suitcase,” said Nancy, laying very tenderly into the round, black box, one more pair of nice, white silk stockings, Nancy’s extra gift. “Be sure to wear your black and white felt on the steamer, Mums. You look stunning in that hat.”
“All right, sweet-heart, I’ll remember,” promised the mother, who herself was busy with Nancy’s things. “I’m glad your trunk goes today. Somehow it is easier to attend to mine--”
“Oh, yes. Hum-m-m-hum. You want _me_ out of the way first. But, really, I think it cheating not to let me see you off,” grumbled Nancy in pretty pretense.