polishing touch to a shining pile of dishes. She looked up at him for
a second, and then went on with her work, and Everett could see that
her curled lips were trembling like a hurt child's.

"I--I thought I might get a bite of something from--from Mag if she
hadn't left--the kitchen--I--I--" Everett hesitated on the threshold
and in speech. "I--I am sorry to trouble you," he finished lamely.

"I don't believe you care--care if you do," answered Rose Mary, and
her blue eyes showed a decided temper spark under their black lashes.
"I see I made a mistake in expecting anything of you. A friend's
fingers ought not to slip through yours when you need them to hold
tight. But come, get your supper--"

"Please, Rose Mary, I'm most awfully ashamed," he said as he came and
stood close beside her, and there was a note in his voice that fairly
startled him with its tenderness. "I'm just a cross old bear, and I
don't deserve anything, no supper and no--no Rose Mary to care whether
I'm hungry or not and no--"

"But I put the supper up," said Rose Mary, with a little laugh and
catch in her voice. "I couldn't let you be hungry, even if you did
treat me that way."

"Didn't Jennie Rucker come to tell you I couldn't get here to
supper?" asked Everett with what he felt to be a contemptible feint of
defense.

"Yes, she came; but you knew we were going to have company and that I
wanted you to be here. You know Mr. Newsome is the best friend we have