ect. In a moment her clear, sweet voice was leading
the rest in "The Flag without a Stain."

"How do you like a Texas Sunday?" Blue Bonnet found herself beside
Sarah as they walked back to _Poco Tiempo_, and put the question
rather mischievously.

"It's been very nice, most of it," Sarah returned in a stiff manner,
very unlike her usual one.

"What part didn't you like?"

Sarah made sure that the others were not listening, then answered in a
tone Blue Bonnet had never heard from her before:

"I didn't like being made to feel that whatever I do is the wrong
thing. I never seem to please you any more, Blue Bonnet."

"Why, Sarah!" Blue Bonnet stopped still and gazed at Sarah in
consternation. Sarah paused, too, and in the faint rays from the fire
the two girls looked at each other steadily for a moment without
speaking. Finally Blue Bonnet blurted out:

"I wish you'd tell me just what you mean."

"I mean that I've come to the conclusion that I should have stayed in
Woodford. I don't seem to fit in here." Sarah's voice shook a little.

"Sarah!" was still all Blue Bonnet could stammer. It was all so sudden
and unexpected; a bolt from a clear sky.

"Please don't think I'm thin-skinned and can't stand a little
teasing," Sarah continued, "for I'm sure I can--I always have had to.
But lately I haven't said a thing that hasn't made one or other of you
'hoot' as Kitty says. And everything I've wanted to do you've thought
ridiculous. Lately the boys have begun to laugh at me; even those I
hardly know."

This time Blue Bonnet said nothing; she was overcome by the thought
that all Sarah had said was quite true. She hastily reviewed the past
few weeks, and as one by one she remembered various incidents, the
force of Sarah's complaints struck her anew.

Kitty's dare and that wild ride; the ban put upon Sarah's Spanish
books and the much-loved drawn-work; and, lately, the almost concerted
effort of all of them to convert everything Sarah said and did into
something unwarranted and absurd. By the time Blue Bonnet had reached
her own action of that very morning in tearing the apron forcibly
from Sarah's shoulders, she was dumb with shame. This was the way she
had rewarded her friend for a loyalty that had been unswerving through
all that dreadful week in Woodford, when the other girls had sent her
to Coventry; for all her sweet thoughtfulness that had proved itself
unfailing!

She suddenly threw her arms impulsively aroun