e, if you will read that last paragraph once more, I will try
to see where the difficulty lies. It--it's fine so far."

Lucine looked down at her essay, then across at the attentive small face
that appeared quite plain when fixed in such a worried pucker. "No," she
said at last, "I won't. You are not interested in the essay or in my
hopes of success. You offer to help merely because you think it is your
duty. I refuse to accept such grudging friendship. You toss aside my
affairs at the slightest whim of an outsider, and then expect me to
welcome the remnant of your mental powers. No, thank you."

Laura bit her lip. "I'm sorry," she said, "you ought not to feel that way
about it. I do truly wish to help you all I can. Please!"

Lucine made a half-involuntary movement to gather up the sheets; then
checked herself. "No, I have too much pride to play second fiddle. Your
neglect has wounded me deeply, and I do not see how I can ever forgive
you. To forsake me for such a shallow, disagreeable person as Berta
Abbott is an unpardonable insult."

Laura gave a little shiver and lifted her head sharply. "I have tried to
be your friend. I have endured--things. But I won't endure this--I
won't--I can't. Berta is my friend. You shall not speak of her like that
to me. Say you're sorry--quick! Oh, Lucine, say you didn't mean it and
are sorry."

"I am not sorry," said Lucine distinctly, "and I did mean it. I am glad I
have dared to speak the truth about her. She is shallow and disagreeable."

"And what are you?" Laura sprang to her feet. "A conceited selfish
inconsiderate----" She clapped her hand to her mouth with a quick sobbing
breath. "Oh, Lucine, we can't be friends. I've tried and tried, but we
can't."

From beneath lowered eyelids Lucine watched the slight little figure
hurry to the door and vanish. Then rising abruptly she jerked a chair in
front of her desk, slapped down a fresh pad of paper, jabbed her pen into
the inkwell, shook it fiercely over the blotter--and suddenly brushing
the pages hither and thither she flung out her arms upon them and buried
her face from the light.

A few minutes later Laura entered noiselessly and stopped short at sight
of the crouching form with shoulders that rose and fell over a long
quivering sob. Laura took one step toward her, next two away; finally
setting her teeth resolutely she glided softly across the room and patted
the bent, dark head. For an instant Lucine lay motionless; the