"I don't care to part with my furniture," said Fanny Dodge, her
pretty round chin uplifted.

She was taller than Lydia, and appeared to be looking over her head
with an intent stare at the freshly papered wall beyond.

"For pity sake!" exclaimed her mother sharply. "Why, Fanny, you could
buy a brand new set, an' goodness knows what-all with the money.
What's the matter with you?"

"I know just how Fanny feels about having her room changed," put in
Ellen Dix, with a spirited glance at the common enemy. "There are
things that money can't buy, but some people don't seem to think so."

Lydia's blue eyes had clouded swiftly.

"If you'll come into the library," she said, "we'll have some
lemonade. It's so very warm I'm sure we are all thirsty."

She did not speak of the furniture again, and after a little the
visitors rose to go. Mrs. Dodge lingered behind the others to
whisper:

"I'm sure I don't know what got into my Fanny. Only the other day she
was wishing she might have her room done over, with new furniture and
all. I'll try and coax her."

But Lydia shook her head.

"Please don't," she said. "I want that furniture very much; but--I