few people are able to recover a lost temper just because they find out,
at the height of their anger, that they are themselves to blame for what
made them angry, and Dolly was not yet one of them.

"I suppose you'll tell all the other girls about this," she said. She
wasn't crying any more, but her voice was as hard as ever. "I think
you're horrid--and I thought I was going to like you so much. I think
I'll ask Miss Eleanor to let me share a room with someone else."

Bessie didn't answer, though Dolly waited while the wagon drove on for
quite a hundred yards. Bessie was thinking hard. She liked Dolly; she
was sure that this was only a show of Dolly's temper, which, despite
the restrictions that surrounded her in her home, and had a good deal to
do with her mischievous ways, had never been properly curbed.

But, though Bessie was not angry in her turn, she understood thoroughly
that if she and Dolly were to continue the friendship that had begun so
promisingly, this trouble between them must be settled, and settled in
the proper fashion. If Dolly were allowed to sleep on her anger, it
would be infinitely harder to restore their relations to a friendly
basis.

"I suppose you don't care!" said Dolly, finally, when she decided that
Bessie was not going to answer her.

And now Bessie decided on a change of tactics. She had tried arguing
with Dolly, and it had seemed to do no good at all. It was time to see
if a little ridicule would not be more useful.

"I didn't say so, Dolly," she answered, very quietly. And she smiled at