al to her trim style; she took immense pains over her
finger-nails and put on her best high frock. She hurried over her
preparations, having been reluctant to leave her bed till the last
possible moment. Mrs. Amber had laid the dinner-table, but there were
still things to do.

"Some day I shall keep an awf'ly good parlour-maid," Marie promised
herself.

She went in to criticise and retouch her mother's painstaking
arrangements. She grew flushed and irritated over the cooking.

"_And_ a good cook," she added. "What dreams!"

Julia looked a good deal at Marie during dinner in the delusive light
of the shaded candles, and at last she said:

"You're thinner. And there's something about you--I don't know what it
is. You are almost fragile."

"I manage this flat entirely without help, you know," said Marie,
looking round the speckless dining-room proudly.

"_That_ ought not to do it," replied Julia, dismissing domestic
work with a contemptuous wave of the hand. "Are you worrying?"

"Worrying?" Marie repeated. "What about?"

"Oh, anything."

"I have nothing to worry over."

"Blessed woman!" replied Julia, diving into the freak pocket of an
expensive garment bought with her own money. "May I begin to smoke?"

"Let me get cigarettes," said Marie, springing up for Osborn's box,
which lay on the mantelpiece behind her.

"Always carry my own, thanks," said Julia, brandishing the
cigarette-case she had produced.

The sudden movement she had made gave Marie a curious sensation; Julia
and the room and the red fire swam around her; her brain was numb and
dizzy; she staggered and caught at her chair-back.

"Oh!" she gasped. "I feel so--so--"

"What?" exclaimed the other girl, springing up.

Marie sank into her chair.

"I was so giddy--and faint, Julia."

Julia drew her chair close to Marie's, put down her yet unlighted
cigarette, and looked at her friend shrewdly.

"Look here, kiddy," she began, with a softness Marie had never heard
in her voice before. Then she stopped and asked: "Where's the brandy?"

"There isn't any," said Marie in a far-away voice; "there's only
Osborn's whisky, and that's horrid. I'll be all right soon. Make the
coffee, dear, will you? And make it strong."

Julia not only made the coffee strong, but she made it very quickly;
she had a wonderfully quiet, efficient way of accomplishing things.
The coffee stimulated Marie and steadied the erratic beating of her
heart.

"That's better,"