ing," Betty hurried to say as
she shook the purse and dug into it for the silver as well as the bills
she had left after her morning's shopping. "I know that pretty blue will
just look dear on a friend of mine."

She was busy with her money, and the English girl looked on hopefully. So
neither saw the twist of tissue paper fly off the dangling fringe of beads
and land with a soft little "plump" on the floor by the counter.

"Dear me!" breathed the shopgirl, in reply to Betty's promise, "I shall
like that. It will help a good bit--and everything so high in this
country. A dollar, as you say, goes hardly anywhere! And this one will fit
you beautifully. You can see yourself."

"Of course it will. Do it up at once," cried the excited Betty. "Here is
the money. Twelve dollars. I was afraid I didn't have enough. And be sure
and keep that blue one for my friend. Maybe she will come for it herself,
so give me a card or something so she can find the place. Shall she ask
for you?"

"If you please," and the English girl ran to write a card. She brought it
back with the neatly made parcel of the over-blouse and slipped it into
Betty Gordon's hand. The latter thanked her and looked swiftly at the name
the other had written.

"Good-bye, Ida Bellethorne," she said, smiling. "What a fine name! I hope
I can sell some more blouses for you. I'll try."

The shopgirl made a little bow and the silvery bell jangled again as Betty
opened the door. Betty looked back at the English girl, and the latter
looked after Betty. They were both interested, much interested, the one in
the other, and for reasons that neither suspected. Ida Bellethorne was not
much like the girls Betty knew. She seemed even more sedate than the
seniors at Shadyside where Betty had attended school with the Littell
girls since the term had opened in September.

Ida Bellethorne was not, however, in any such happy condition as the girls
Betty Gordon knew. She might have told the warm-hearted customer who had
bought the over-blouse a story that would indeed have spurred Betty's
interest to an even greater degree. But the English girl was naturally of
a secretive disposition, and she was among strangers.

She turned back into the store when Betty had gone and the door, swinging
shut, set the bell above it jingling again. A door opened at the end of
the room and a tall, aggressive woman in a long, straight, gingham frock
strode into the room. She had very black, heavy bro