! You won't get to see the books, nor I the violin.
I know you are hating me horribly. There's nothing to do but go back to
Warwick Hall, and leave a note with the ticket agent for Miss Chilton."

The tears stood in her eyes, and she looked so broken-hearted that Lloyd
put her arms around her, insisting that it didn't make a mite of
difference to her. That she didn't care much for the old books, anyhow,
and for her not to grieve about it another minute.

Maud's face darkened as she listened. Presently she said: "I don't care
particularly about the books, either, but I don't see any use of our
losing the entire holiday. You know your way about the city, Gay; I have
some car-fare in my purse, and so has Lloyd. We can go larking by
ourselves."

The dressmaker came back with Maud's waist. She put it on, and Gay went
for her belt. While Lloyd was still waiting for her waist, Maud
sauntered out of the fitting-room, and asked permission to use the
telephone. She was still using it when Gay joined them.

"Wait a minute," Maud called to her invisible auditor, and, still
holding the receiver, turned toward the girls.

"Such grand luck!" she exclaimed, in a low tone. "I just happened to
think of a young fellow I know here in town--Charlie Downs. He is always
ready for anything going, and, when I telephoned him the predicament we
are in, he said right away he would meet us down here and take us all to
the matinee."

"Charlie Downs," echoed Gay. "I never heard of him."

"That doesn't make any difference," Maud answered, hurriedly. Then, in a
still lower tone, with her back to the telephone: "He's all right. He's
a sort of a distant relative of mine,--that is, his cousin married into
our family. I can vouch for Charlie. He's a young medical student, and
he's in old Doctor Spencer's office. Everybody knows Doctor Spencer, one
of the finest specialists in the country."

She turned toward the telephone again, but Gay stopped her. "It's out of
the question, Maud, for us to accept such an invitation. It's kind of
him to ask us, but you're in my charge, and I'll have to take the
responsibility of refusing."

"Well, I never heard the like of that!" said Maud, angrily, looking down
on Gay in such a scornful, disgusted way that Lloyd would have laughed
had the situation not been so tragic. Gay, trying to be commanding,
reminded her of an anxious little hen, ruffling its feathers because the
obstinate duckling in its brood refused to