it sounds almost like a fairy tale. I talked of it to father at dinner
and then rushed over to tell you, as I thought you might be interested,
but perhaps I had better wait--"

From the foot of the lounge Mollie O'Neill now interrupted. Utterly
unlike either her sister or friend in her disposition, her influence
often held them together.

"We do want to hear what you have to tell us, Betty, most dreadfully.
Just because we happen to be specially worried about something to-night
is no reason why Polly should be so mysterious. I vote we tell you what
our trouble is and then you tell us your secret."

Polly got up from the floor. She was always curiously intense, not
deliberately, but perhaps as a part of her inheritance. Now she made a
little bow to Betty. "I am sorry I was rude to you, Princess," she said
gently, "but tell you the reason for my special tirade against poverty
to-night, I will not and Mollie shall not tell either."

Without replying Betty turned to pick up her blue cloak which had
dropped from her shoulders as she knelt by the lounge. It had a cap
attached with a blue silk lining and this she slipped over her head.

"It isn't worth while for me to talk of my plan to-night, then," she
returned, "for if Polly won't be interested, you and, I could never make
a go of it by ourselves, Mollie. Good-night; I promised not to stay
very long." Passing by the lounge Mrs. O'Neill reached out, slipping
her hand in Betty's and drew her to a place beside her. Usually a girl
with the three other girls there was now and then a note in Mrs.
O'Neill's voice which they seldom failed to recognize.