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“You’re very fortunate.” There was much more Ellen would like to say, in surprising defense of Ruth, but she knew that to irritate Louisa now, with her parents downstairs and Aunt Ruth, as Louisa had rudely pointed out, so keen to impress them, would create a disaster.
“I am,” Louisa agreed placidly. She leapt off the bed and went out into the hallway.
“Where are you going?” Ellen asked, trying not to sound too anxious, as Louisa marched downstairs again.
“They’re still talking,” she whispered, rolling her eyes, and disappeared into the kitchen.
Aunt Ruth had laid the tea things out on the kitchen table, to be brought in with suitable pomp and formality, and Louisa surveyed them with a speculative air.
Ellen’s breath caught, and her pulse beat in her throat. “Louisa—”
With wide, horrified eyes she watched as Louisa deliberately plunged her finger in to the middle of the lemon tart, its smooth, creamily yellow surface now marred by a gaping, finger-shaped hole.
She licked her finger, grinning, her eyes snapping challenge. “Mmm. Delicious.”
“Louisa!” Ellen hissed. She was so angry, she was nearly shaking. “How could you! You know that tart’s for tea!”
Louisa shrugged in defiance. “I’d like to see Aunt Ruth’s face when she sees that tart now,” she said with a sharp little giggle.
“You will see it,” Ellen replied grimly. “Honestly, how could you be so selfish!” She could not imagine what Aunt Ruth would think when she saw the desecrated tart. She looked up, disgusted with Louisa’s purposeful malice. “How could you be so stupid!”
There was a terrible silence as Louisa’s face went white, then red with rage. “You’ll regret speaking to me like that!” she hissed. “You’re such a prim and proper little miss, aren’t you, Ellen Copley! Everyone told me you came here dressed like something from the rag basket with an accent so thick you could spread it on bread! You were worse than one of the Irish mill girls, and I made you my friend!”
“I’m not likely to thank you for that privilege,” Ellen snapped back, hurt despite her best intentions not to be by Louisa’s insults. “And at least I didn’t arrive in this town with my nose so high in the air I’d trip every time I took a step! You’re nothing more than a selfish, spoiled, vain little brat!”
Louisa gasped in shock, then did something Ellen immediately realized was quite
possibly the worst thing that could have happened. She burst into noisy tears.
There was a moment of silence that seemed to reverberate throughout the whole house, pierced only by Louisa’s obvious theatrics.
Then Aunt Ruth, Uncle Hamish, and both the Hoppers came hurrying into the kitchen.
“Oh, my Louisa!” Mrs. Hopper cried. “What on earth has happened? Are you hurt, my dear child?”
Louisa gulped noisily, her face streaked with tears. “My feelings are,” she said in a pathetic wail. “Ellen Copley said horrible things about me! Horrible! And all because I told her not to dip her finger into Mrs. Copley’s beautiful lemon tart!”
Ellen choked in disbelief, Mrs. Hopper gasped, Mr. Hopper frowned and glanced at his pocket watch, Uncle Hamish looked troubled and unhappy, and Aunt Ruth’s face was completely expressionless as she surveyed the scene, from Louisa’s reddened face to the desecrated tart.
“I’m very sorry about this, Mrs. Hopper,” Aunt Ruth said after a moment, her voice scrupulously polite. “Clearly we need to teach the girl some more manners. You know we took her in when her father abandoned her, and there is more work to do.” Ellen gasped at this unfair statement, rage boiling thickly through her. “I do hope Louisa won’t take whatever Ellen said to heart.”
“It appears she already has,” Mrs. Hopper replied in a frosty voice. “She’s very sensitive, you know, and I had my doubts about her friendship with your niece, orphaned as she is, and so new to this country...”
“I’m not an orphan,” Ellen interrupted, her voice choked, only to be swiftly silenced by a poisonous look from Aunt Ruth.
“Indeed, I fear your doubts may have had some foundation,” Aunt Ruth replied with grim courtesy. “Although in the past Ellen has given very little reason for me to doubt her...”
“Has she? Perhaps you should pay more close attention,” Mrs. Hopper retorted, and Aunt Ruth inclined her head.
“I hope you will still stay for tea. Ellen, you must of course apologize to Louisa.”
Ellen’s chest felt so tight she could barely breathe, and she felt dizzy with the injustice of the situation, from Louisa’s lies to her aunt’s assumption of the worst in her. Worst of all was Louisa’s smug smile as she waited for an apology she had no right to.
“I’m very sorry, Louisa,” Ellen said in a cold voice, “for what happened today. I realize my judgment was entirely in error.”
Louisa frowned, suspecting the apology was not quite what it should be, and even the Hoppers looked slightly taken aback.
“You will stay for tea, I hope?” Aunt Ruth asked. “We can put this unfortunate episode behind us.”
