Jane of Lantern Hill Read Free Page B

nose-glasses attached to a long black ribbon and looked at Jane through them as if wishing to be sure what a girl who didn’t know the capital of her country was really like. Jane, under the paralyzing influence of that stare, dropped her fork, and writhed in anguish when she caught grandmother’s eye. Grandmother touched her little silver bell.
    â€œWill you bring Miss Victoria another fork, Davis?” she said in a tone implying that Jane had had several forks already.
    Uncle William put the piece of white chicken meat he had just carved off on the side of the platter. Jane had been hoping he would give it to her. She did not often get white meat. When Uncle William was not there to carve, Mary carved the fowls in the kitchen and Frank passed the platter around. Jane seldom dared to help herself to white meat because she knew grandmother was watching her. On one occasion when she had helped herself to two tiny pieces of breast grandmother had said,
    â€œDon’t forget, my dear Victoria, that there are other people who might like a breast slice too.”
    At present Jane reflected that she was lucky to get a drumstick. Uncle William was quite capable of giving her the neck by way of rebuking her for not knowing the capital of Canada. However, Aunt Sylvia very kindly gave her a double portion of turnip. Jane loathed turnip.
    â€œYou don’t seem to have much appetite, Victoria,” said Aunt Sylvia reproachfully when the mound of turnip had not decreased much.
    â€œOh, I think Victoria’s appetite is all right,” said grandmother, as if it were the only thing about her that was all right. Jane always felt that there was far more in what grandmother said than in the words themselves. Jane might have broken her record for never crying then and there, she felt so utterly wretched, had she not looked at mother. And mother was looking so tender and sympathetic and understanding that Jane spunked up at once and simply made no effort to eat any more turnip.
    Aunt Sylvia’s daughter Phyllis, who did not go to St. Agatha’s but to Hillwood Hall, a much newer but even more expensive school, could have named not only the capital of Canada but the capital of every province in the Dominion. Jane did not like Phyllis. Sometimes Jane thought drearily that there must be something the matter with her when there were so many people she didn’t like. But Phyllis was so condescending…and Jane hated to be condescended to.
    â€œWhy don’t you like Phyllis?” grandmother had asked once, looking at Jane with those eyes that, Jane felt, could see through walls, doors, everything, right into your inmost soul. “She is pretty, lady-like, well-behaved and clever;…everything that you are not,” Jane felt sure grandmother wanted to add.
    â€œShe patronizes me,” said Jane.
    â€œDo you really know the meaning of all the big words you use, my dear Victoria?” said grandmother. “And don’t you think that…possibly…you are a little jealous of Phyllis?”
    â€œNo, I don’t think so,” said Jane firmly. She knew she was not jealous of Phyllis.
    â€œOf course, I must admit she is very different from that Jody of yours,” said grandmother. The sneer in her voice brought an angry sparkle into Jane’s eyes. She could not bear to hear anyone sneer at Jody. And yet what could she do about it?

CHAPTER 3
    She and Jody had been pals for a year. Jody matched Jane’s eleven years of life and was tall for her age too…though not with Jane’s sturdy tallness. Jody was thin and weedy and looked as if she had never had enough to eat in her life…which was very likely the case, although she lived in a boarding house…58 Gay, which had once been a fashionable residence and was now just a dingy three-story boarding house.
    One evening in the spring of the preceding year Jane was out in the back yard of 60 Gay, sitting on a rustic