right to give invitations without consulting me first,
Birdie," said Mrs. Clarke, who looked more displeased than her daughter
remembered ever having seen her before. "I cannot allow you to make
friends with girls of whom I know nothing."

"But you'd know her if she came here, Motherkins."

"I don't wish to--nor do I want you to continue the acquaintance. No,
Birdie, it is impossible. I absolutely forbid you to ask this Dorothy
Greenfield here again."

It was the first time Mrs. Clarke had ever set her will in direct
opposition to Alison's, and the spoilt child could hardly realize that
she was not to be allowed, as usual, to do as she liked. She burst out
into a final appeal.

"But, Mother, I love Dorothy! We're always together. You don't know what
chums we are at school. If you only guessed half of how much I want it,
you'd say yes."

"But I say no, Birdie," answered Mrs. Clarke, firm for once in her life.
"I strongly discourage this acquaintance, and you must not be more
friendly with Dorothy than you can help. I prefer you to travel to
school in another carriage."

"How can I? What explanation could I possibly give? It would seem so
peculiar to cut her for no reason at all."

"I suppose you will have to be civil, but you must not be intimate. You
are to see no more of her than you can help. It is very annoying that
she goes by the same train. In such a large school as Avondale there are
surely plenty of other and more suitable girls with whom you can make
friends."

"Not one so nice as Dorothy," gulped Alison, beginning to cry. "If you'd
only ask her, and see for yourself!"

"Birdie, I don't want to be cross with you, but you must understand,
once and for all, that I will not have this girl at the house. No, I
shall not explain; it is quite enough for you that I forbid it. Don't
mention the subject to me again."

Alison ran upstairs in floods of tears. She could not understand why her
mother had taken this sudden prejudice against Dorothy. The thought of
breaking off the friendship was misery to her; added to this, she was so
used to getting her own way that it seemed strange to have any
reasonable request refused--and she considered this one to be most
reasonable. In matters of health she was accustomed to obey, to submit
to be wrapped up in shawls, to put on galoshes, to be kept in bed and
dosed and dieted; but where her health was not concerned she had almost
invariably been consulted, and her wishes