Free Red Hart Magic by Andre Norton Page A

deliberately set out to annoy them in turn.
    The day, begun badly, continued worse. As Martha had forewarned, Miss Crabbit certainly upheld the nickname which had been given her. Though Nan realized that she was not being singled out for any sharpness of tongue, which met her own faltering attempts to keep up with the class. Miss Crabbit could “keep discipline.” She had an exterior and tone of voice which reduced even the boys in the back to some semblance of order, but she was impatient with those who did not work their best.
    Nan, still at sea in a class where many things appeared so different from all she had known, was near giving up in despair of ever getting anything right again. At lunch she made the round of the cafeteria without paying much attention to the food she selected. She had a hamburger and a glass of milk, as well as knife, fork, and spoon which she did not need, clattering together on her tray when she turned to face what was even worse than the Crab's class—a room filledwith tables, the smell of food, a roar of voices, and no one to welcome her.
    She hesitated by a table, then set her tray down where there were two vacant seats. The three girls at the other end talked shrilly, as if to top the roar about them. Nan, in one quick and guarded glance, recognized them as classmates, though it was difficult, even though their faces were familiar, to put names to them.
    The blonde one with the very long hair and the blue pants suit with the red-white-and-blue-striped T-shirt—that was Marve. Even Miss Crabbit called her Marve. With her, wearing jeans and a floppy shirt with Cat Woman printed on it, was a girl with her hair trimmed as short as a boy's used to be. She had a sharp nose—
    Nan remembered a nose like that. A ghost of last night's dream troubled her mind. Uncle Jasper—he had had just such a nose—though a much larger one, of course, and his lips were thin in the same way, too.
    The third girl was the Karen Long who sat just in front of Nan in class. She always looked oddly—or had the two days Nan had seen her—like a blurred copy of Marve. Her stringy hair was darker, a straight brown, hanging in untidy ragged locks, instead of being sleek the way Marve's was. She also wore a pair of blue pants and a red-white-and-blue shirt, but she was too plump for them to fit as well as Marve's.
    To Nan's complete surprise Marve got up, slid her tray with a clatter down the table, coming to perch on the chair next to Nan, her two friends moving down in turn. Marve was smiling.

    â€œYou live at the Ramsley, don't you?”
    Nan still could not believe the friendliness in Marve's voice was meant for her. There was none of that put-you-in-your-place staring with which Martha had favored her.
    â€œJust for a while.” Somehow she found her voice around a bite of hamburger she did not even taste. “I'm staying with Miss Hawes.” Not Aunt Elizabeth—because she was not— not a real aunt.
    â€œI know. M’ mother belongs to the bridge club. She heard all about you.”
    Nan tensed. Would Marve, for all her appearance of friendliness, now ask questions as Martha had?
    â€œM’ mother takes Travel Magazine.” Marve planted both elbows just beyond the edge of her tray. “I saw that piece about Taiwan your mother wrote. It must be something to travel around that way. You go with her—when there's vacation?”
    Nan shook her head. “I lived with Grandma—until I came here.” She wondered if Marve would lose interest in her now.
    â€œI bet she brings you things.” Marve was watching her oddly. “I bet you've got some wonderful presents from all those places.”
    Nan chewed at her hamburger. She need not tell any real lie now. Mother had brought or sent some things. There was a doll from Japan, and a turquoise bracelet, and a dress from London. Only the dress had been too small when it came, and Nan had never