tt!"

Tabitha's sensitive face flushed crimson and the angry light sprang to
her eyes, but Bertha rose to the occasion with the ready tact which had
made her one of the most popular girls.

"Cassandra, dear, this is our Kitty, the mascot of this floor. Come and
meet her, girls;" and before Tabitha realized what had happened, six or
seven laughing girls emerged from the various rooms along the hall, and
surrounded her, all chattering gayly and apparently not noticing
Tabitha's awkward, embarrassed manner. Carrie joined them shortly, and
received an enthusiastic greeting, for it was evident that she, too, was
a general favorite. And such a laughing and chattering as followed! And
how the time flew! In the midst of their merrymaking a gong sounded.

"Goodness gracious, girls! is it so late? I haven't finished unpacking
yet. Half an hour to get ready for tea, Tabitha;" and they dispersed to
their rooms.

Tabitha followed their example and flung open the door at the end of the
hall for the final touches to her toilette, but stopped on the threshold
in surprise. Standing in front of the mirror, arranging her long, smooth
curls, was a girl about her own age, clad in an over-trimmed gown of
thin white stuff, and wearing an immense bow of white at either side of
her head. At the sound of Tabitha's entrance she turned languidly and
surveyed the intruder with cold, disapproving eyes. Tabitha returned the
stare with one of undisguised admiration, for never had she seen anyone
so beautiful. "Oh, are you Chrystobel?" she cried in rapture. "I've been
wondering if you would fit your name."

"I am Chrystobel Clayton," answered the stranger in a frigid tone which
was entirely lost on the other. "Do I fit?"

"Oh, yes, you are the handsomest girl I ever saw. Carrie Carson is
pretty, but you are beautiful!"

"What is _your_ name?" asked Chrystobel, still with a haughty air, but
considerably pleased with the open admiration of her companion.

"Tabitha Catt," came the slow answer.

"What an exceedingly queer cognomen!"

Tabitha caught her breath, then said slowly, "It isn't very pretty,
perhaps; but--one gets used to their name so they don't mind it."

"Well, I must say if I had such an odd name as that I would change it.
_I_ never could get used to it; but then, some people haven't as
sensitive natures as others."

Tabitha made no reply, but with a queer sense of rage in her heart she
walked across to the dresser and bent to op