and only Bessie, who was amazed by this outburst, heard her. Grieved and
astonished, she put her arm about Dolly, but the other girl threw it
off, roughly.

"Don't you pretend you love me--I know the mean sort of a cat you are
now!" she said bitterly.

"Why, Dolly! Whatever _is_ the matter with, you? What have I done to
make you angry?"

"If you were so mad at me the other day getting you into that automobile
ride with Mr. Holmes you might have said so--instead of tending that
you'd forgiven me, and then turning around and making everyone laugh at
me to-night! You're prettier than I--and clever--but I think it's
pretty mean to make that Burns boy spend the whole evening with you!"

Gradually, and very faintly, Bessie began to have a glimmering of what
was wrong with her friend. She found it hard work not to smile, or even
to laugh outright, but she resisted the temptation nobly, for she knew
only too well that to Dolly, sensitive and nervous, laughter would be
just the one thing needed to make it harder than ever to patch up this
senseless and silly quarrel, which, so far, was only one sided.

To Bessie, who thought little of boys, and to whom jealousy was alien,
the idea that Dolly was really jealous of her seemed absurd, since she
knew how little cause there was for such a feeling. But, very wisely,
she determined to proceed slowly, and not to do anything that could
possibly give Dolly any fresh cause of offence.

"Dolly," she said, "you mustn't feel that way. Really, dear, I didn't do