. Nancy, radiating friendliness and good-humor,
smiled at Judith as much as to say, "Isn't it jolly?" But Judith
hardened her heart and pretended that she didn't see her. The ice-cream
was delicious and the tiny cups of black coffee afterwards made them
feel very grown-up, and every one but Judith seemed perfectly happy.

"What's the matter, Judy?" whispered Nancy, as they went into the
drawing-room, for Judith not only felt miserable, she looked
miserable--so much so that Miss Meredith made a mental note to ask Miss
Marlowe to keep an eye on her and find out if anything were troubling
her.

"Nothing's the matter," said Judith coldly, turning away and calling out
to Frances to wait for her.

Nancy felt rebuffed, but loyally sought to find excuses for her friend.
"She's been working too hard over that Jessica essay," she said to
herself; "she looks awfully tired."

Then followed a miserable week. Judith was both jealous and angry; she
felt that in telling Sally May what she had said about Tim, Nancy had
betrayed their friendship. It was true that Nancy and Sally May were
much together; they were making scenery for the Studio Play and were
spending many spare hours upstairs working under Miss Ashwell's
direction. Judith knew about the play, but she was too angry to be
reasonable, so she shut herself up in her books and avoided Nancy as
much as possible.

Nancy knew quite well now that something had come between Judith and
her, and she made two more attempts to find out what was wrong so that
if possible things might be righted, but each time Judith rebuffed her,
and Nancy was too busy to spend much time coaxing. Sally May, who was
held to be a wise little person, told Nancy not to worry.

"Judy'll be all right; she is just cross and tired. I really can't see
why she works so hard."

Sally May, it may be remarked, would never work very hard as long as she
lived: she wasn't that kind.

"Did you hear Judith give Jane what-for the other day?" she continued.
"Jane went into Judy's cubicle with an orange peel and an old piece of
rubber cut in the shape of a heart, and called out, 'What price for
these personal relics of our beloved Captain Catherine? Her pretty foot
has pressed this piece of rubber; it can be conveniently sewed to the
camisole and worn next the heart. Her pretty lips once touched this
piece of peel'--and she dangled the peel right in front of Judy's eyes.
'Get out of my room quick,' said our polite li