Rawle had not yet come in. The newspaper
girl turned her steps toward Wayne Hall, feeling slightly disappointed
and vexed. Arrived at the Hall, she slipped upstairs with the cat-like
quiet and ease that always characterized her movements. At the door of
her room she paused for a moment, listening to the sound of voices that
came from within. Then, with a vehement exclamation, she flung wide the
door and darted into the room.

"Whatever you have to say of me you can say in my presence," she
stormed. "Do you hear? I said, 'In my presence,'" she repeated, her
voice rising.

The two astonished occupants of the room regarded the angry girl in
silent astonishment. Then the tension of the moment relaxed, and Alice
Rawle found her voice. "You are right," she said to Kathleen, with a
scornful little gesture. "We were talking of you. Evidently you heard
what we said. I am glad you did. Until this moment I liked you better
than any other girl in Overton. If you had come sooner, you would have
heard me say so. But now I think you are unjust and contemptible and I
shall never speak to you again." Turning to Patience, who had stood
impassive during this outburst, she said with sudden penitence: "I'm
sorry I lost my temper. I will come again to see you at some other time.
Good-bye."

As the door closed on Alice, Kathleen confronted Patience with blazing
eyes. "It is all your fault," she accused wildly. "I hate you! You are
one of the superior, narrow-minded sort of girls who will excuse
nothing. You imagine yourself to be perfect, but you can always discover
faults in others. You don't like me. I know it. I have those dear
friends of yours to thank for it, too. I know that Miss Harlowe has
taken particular pains to strengthen your first impression of me, which
wasn't favorable. It is very unfortunate that we are obliged to room
together. I suppose it is useless to ask you to mind your own business
and let me alone."

Kathleen walked moodily to the window and stood looking out, her
favorite attitude when greatly disturbed in spirit. Crossing swiftly to
where the newspaper girl stood, Patience laid two firm hands on
Kathleen's shoulders. She whirled at the touch, her eyes flashing.

"That's right," commented Patience. "I want you to look at me. The time
has come for you and me to have an understanding. I've been putting off
the evil day, and there have been times when I have even dreamed that we
might dispense with it altogether.