tidy myself. I am going to supper to-night with Cassandra Weldon."

"Then you don't get in," whispered Kathleen to herself. Aloud she said:

"I am sorry, darling, but I am specially busy, and I really must have my
share of the room to myself."

"Do open the door, Kathleen," now almost pleaded poor Alice. "If you
want your share of the room, I want mine. Don't you understand?"

"I am not interfering, dearest," called back Kathleen, "and I am keeping
religiously to my own half. I have the straight window, and you have the
bay. I am not touching your beautiful half; I am only in mine."

"Let me in," called Alice again, "and don't be silly."

"Sorry, dear; don't think I am silly."

There was a silence. Alice went on her knees and peered through the
keyhole: Kathleen was seated by her dressing-table, and there was a
sound of the furious scratching of a pen quite audible. "This is
intolerable," thought Alice. "She is the most awful girl I ever heard
of. I shall be late. Mary Addersley and Rhoda Pierpont are to call for
me shortly, and I shan't be ready. I don't want to appeal to mother or
to be rude to the poor wild thing the first day. Stay, I will tempt
her.--Kathleen!"

"Yes, darling."

"Wouldn't you like to come with me to Cassandra Weldon's? She is so