bedspread," said Janet. She sat very still, summoning up the threads of the conversation; she almost had it.
"You can get them at Jacobsen's," said Peg.
"We have to go anyway," said Christina, "to get the material for the curtains. Do you guys want to go now, if it's not raining?"
"Can I come?" said Peg. "Sharon broke my big mug and I'm afraid she'll buy me a new one."
"Why not let her?" said Molly, standing up and stretching alarmingly "Stupid body," she said, picking up the tray. "There's no point in all these histrionics."
"I'm not being histrionic," said Peg, with mild indignation. "Sharon'll buy something with some sick Hallmark verse on it."
"I meant my period," said Molly. "I wouldn't have pegged Sharon for the sentimental type."
"Huh," said Peg, also standing. "Just you wait."
When they got outside, the sun had come out and was making rhinestones out of the raindrops. Janet wished it were still raining; what she wanted to ask Peg, she had thought of first in the rain.
"Do you really want a pink-and-blue Indian bedspread?" said Molly to Janet.
They had lagged behind the other two; Peg was a brisk walker and Christina had long legs.
"No," said Janet. She walked faster; Peg and Christina were almost out of sight.
The backs of her legs hurt from climbing to the top of the observatory yesterday.
When she was in grade school, she had gone up there every day. "Oh, hell," she said.
"I forgot to sign up for any Phys Ed."
"So did I," said Molly. "This time of the month the m ere thought of exercise makes me homicidal. What were you thinking of taking?"
"Fencing," said Janet.
"Because you're fierce, I suppose. Everybody will have the reach on you; why don't you take Archery with me?"
"I'm fast," said Janet, rather nettled. She stopped under the ancient cedar trees that marked the main entrance to Blackstock College, averted her eyes from the brick box, the color of tomato soup, that was Blackstock's newest dormitory, and held out her hands to Molly at waist height, palms down. "Try me," she said.
Molly grinned unnervingly, positioned her own hands about an inch under Janet's, palms up, and began rattling out, "There was a boy named Eustace Clarence Scrubb, and he almost deserved it." She snatched her hands away suddenly, but Janet slapped them smartly.
"Not bad," said Molly, with a kind of grudging pleasure. "Try again. Shit! I can beat all my brothers at this. Come on. Well, hell. You are fast. Okay, give it to 'em for me, too. But I want a rematch when my body's not in rebellion."
"Oh, come on, take fencing with me," said Janet. Janet started walking again, off the grounds of Blackstock and along Church Street with its collection of tall, narrow, cut-rate Victorian houses. "Didn't you play Three Musketeers when you were little?"
"Pirates," said Molly.
"That's swordplay, too."
"We used clubs," said Molly. "No, I want to take Archery, because what I always wanted to play was Robin Hood and they said if we did, I'd have to be Maid Marian and be rescued."
"Maid Marian didn't need rescuing," said Janet, shocked.
"My brothers thought she did," said Molly. "My God, look at that house. I didn't think you had houses like this out in the Wild West."
"Minnesota became a state in 1857," said Janet, patiently. "That's the President's House; that reception thing for supper tonight is there. They'll give you a guided tour." She had always thought the President's House was profoundly ugly, but there was no denying that it was impressive.
"Is it haunted, too?"
"Not that I know of."
"Why is the trim that ghastly pink?"
"Like Peg's bedspread. Henry Barker's wife painted it that color in 1911, and now it's a tradition."
"Just like the language requirement," murmured Molly. "We'd better move, or Tina will buy pink curtains with little flowers on them."
"I thought she was talking about red stripes."
"Only to placate me."
"We could get a calico print," said Janet, "with red stripes and little pink