en the lower drawer where she
had carefully laid the few things her small grip had contained.

"Here," exclaimed Chrystobel sharply, "don't touch that drawer! That is
mine. How dare you!" For Tabitha in her start of surprise had jerked the
drawer free from the dresser and it fell with a bang in the middle of
the floor, disclosing to view a disorderly array of garments which did
not belong to Tabitha.

"What have you done with my things that were in there?" demanded the
black-eyed girl indignantly. "I was here first and had the right to make
first choice. It makes no difference to me, though; the drawers are
just the same size and I would as soon have the other."

Without waiting for a reply, she reached for the upper drawer, but
before she had a chance to open it, Chrystobel caught and held it shut
as she cried angrily, "My things are in there, too. What did you
expect--to keep the whole dresser for yourself?"

"That seems to be what you want," retorted Tabitha, thoroughly enraged.
"What have you done with my things?"

"They are in the top drawers. You aren't entitled to more than two."

"I'm entitled to a big one and a little one, Chrystobel Clayton, just
the same as you are, and I intend to have them, what's more!"

"Miss Pomeroy said it didn't make any difference which two drawers I
took for my own--"

"She didn't say you could have both the big ones, and you aren't going
to have them, so now!"

Snatching up the drawer on the floor, she emptied its contents on the
nearest bed and turned to restore it to its place in the dresser, but
the angry Chrystobel stopped her and tried to take it from her hands,
declaring, "That belongs to me, and you shall not have it, I say!"

Tabitha promptly inverted the disputed piece of property and sat down
upon it, saying quietly, though her eyes flashed dangerously, "Get it if
you can!"

But her companion dared not make the venture, for the clenched hands
looked too formidable, and the spoiled Chrystobel was an arrant coward;
so she stood beside the dresser glowering at the triumphant girl astride
the drawer, and at last finding vent for her anger in the spiteful
remark, "Your name fits you exactly. All cats scratch!"

"Well, your name doesn't fit you at all," was the ready reply, "and I
was mistaken when I said you were the prettiest girl I had ever seen. I
take it all back. You're as ugly as sin!"

"Are you going to give up that drawer?"

"No, not if I have to sit on