le. On the bureau were some bottles
of red Bohemian glass, such as were thought handsome fifty years ago;
an elephant of a writing-desk, staring with plush and gilding, almost
covered the table. Altogether, the room was as desolate as its occupant;
more could not be said. Lobelia seemed smaller and more shrunken than
ever amid all this tasteless display; she seemed conscious of it, too,
as she gazed piteously at Peggy. She had been crying, in a furtive,
frightened way; and, gazing at her, Peggy felt that it must be years ago
that she was crying, too, and hoping for nothing in the world save to
get to her room and have a good solid deluge of tears. At present it
seemed hardly likely that she should ever weep again; she felt strong
and confident, and was still burning with indignation, none the less
hotly that the outward flame had gone down. Her kind companion had been
obliged to leave them, with the promise of seeing them soon again. Peggy
thought she might stay a few minutes, though the gong for gym had
already rung.

"Now, Lobelia," she was saying,--"I am going to call you Lobelia, you
know, and you are to call me Peggy, and we are going to be friends.
Now, Lobelia, mind what I say! if those girls ever give you any more
trouble, you are to come straight to me. Do you hear?"

"Yes," said Lobelia, faintly.

"Have they tormented you before? Beasts! Or was this the first time?"

"Oh, not--not so much!" said the girl, deprecatingly. "A little
yesterday; but--I don't know whether they meant to be unkind, Peggy. I
know that my dress _is_ queer!"

"Don't be so meek!" cried Peggy, unable to repress a little stamp of her
foot, which made Lobelia start. "Have some spirit of your own, Lobelia.
I tell you, these girls are mean, cowardly wretches, not fit for girls
like the Owls to speak to. They don't speak to them much, either," she
added, "and I'm not going to any more than I can help."

Lobelia looked more miserable than ever. "Don't!" she said. "I can't
bear to have any one get into trouble on my account. It--it needn't
matter to you, Peggy. Of course you are very, very kind, and I think I
should have died if you had not come along just then, for I couldn't
seem to bear much more; but I don't want you to get into trouble."

"Who's going to get into trouble?" demanded Peggy. "Guess I can take
care of myself against such a set as that."

"I don't want you to get into trouble!" repeated Lobelia; and, as she
spoke, she gl