Francie Read Free Page B

it?”
    â€œI haven’t told anybody, except you,” said Francie. Her face grew doleful. “It is awful about Prom and all the rest. But Pop’s got the bit between his teeth and there’s not a bit of use making more fuss than I already have.”
    â€œYou’ll probably end by loving it. I know I’d give anything for the chance of a year abroad.”
    â€œRight now? I don’t think you would,” Francie said. “This is the most perfectly terrible time to be snatched out of school. The best years of our lives, or anyway months, and I’m going to miss them all. I’ll never get over it … I wonder what English boys are like,” she added.
    â€œCute, I should think. Listen, Francie, since you’re not going to be here, what about Gretta for Glenn? I mean to say, she’s really okay, she could be cute if she ever had a chance, and she hasn’t got a date for Prom. I know it’s tactless, talking like this as soon as you’ve told me about England, but you don’t mind, do you?”
    â€œOh no, I don’t mind.” Francie went on studying the front yard, swinging her foot glumly. “I don’t mind really,” she added. “I get a boot out of the idea of adventure, to tell the truth. And there’s one bright spot about the whole thing; even if Glenn does take Gretta to Prom and falls for her—”
    â€œI don’t mean he’s likely to fall for her,” interposed Ruth hastily. “It just seemed such a shame to waste him—”
    â€œEven if he does, I don’t care. I forgot to tell you, Pop’s at least promised to give me a fur coat my next birthday if I get through the year without too much trouble. That’s better than Prom, isn’t it?”
    â€œYou are lucky, Francie. Of course it’s better.”
    â€œWell, we’d better get downstairs to the phone and start in,” said Francie with a sigh. “I’ll have to call up everybody. Oh dear. And if you don’t mind a word of advice, Ruth, I wouldn’t go too fast on that Gretta proposition. Let Glenn think he thinks of it himself.”
    â€œYou’re telling me!” said Ruth. Laughing like young harpies, they went out of the room.
    Fred Nelson put down the newspaper he had been trying to read for the last five minutes. He had no idea what was on the page. He said to his sister-in-law, peacefully knitting in her easy chair near the window, “Norah, what do you think about Francie?”
    Aunt Norah took off her spectacles and blinked at him mildly. As she grew older she reminded him less and less of Francie’s mother. But sometimes the trace of a smile that resembled her sister’s crossed her face and he felt again the old pang of longing for someone lovely and gentle and lost. Francie was growing startlingly like her mother in appearance, though in a bolder, more spirited way.
    â€œThink about Francie?” Aunt Norah repeated. “How can I think about her, Fred? She’s too close. I try to keep her well-fed and happy, without interfering with her too much. Girls are so strong-willed these days.”
    â€œYou must have some opinion. You can tell me at least if she worries you much.” He pounced on her own phrase. “Strong-willed, you say? What do you mean by that? Is she one of these young girls who run away from home and are found a month later in Hollywood? Or is she likely to turn into one of these juvenile delinquents we hear so much about?”
    â€œDear me, Fred, what lurid notions you do get! Of course she won’t do anything of the kind. She simply likes to have her own way, and I must say she usually manages to get it.”
    He tried another tack, since he was getting nowhere with his first one. “Tell me, Norah, do all young girls use as much lipstick as Francie? She has a nice mouth underneath all that junk, but you’d never know it.”
    â€œIf