rst book she found
on the table, she plunged into it haphazard, and when Elsie returned she
found her cousin to all appearances quite absorbed in "The Letters of
Queen Victoria."

Elsie did not speak, but seating herself at the piano, began practicing
exercises as if her life depended on it. Marjorie closed her book, and
sat watching her cousin in silence for several minutes; then she spoke.

"Elsie."

"Well, what is it?" inquired Elsie, wheeling round on the piano stool.

"Aren't you going to be friends with me?"

"I certainly am not unless you intend to apologize for the outrageous
things you said to me last night. I've been telling Mamma about it, and
she is very angry."

Marjorie rose.

"I can't apologize, Elsie; you know I can't," she said, steadily, and
without another word she turned and left the room.

When Mrs. Carleton entered her niece's room an hour later, she found
Marjorie curled up in a little disconsolate heap on the bed, her face
buried in the pillows. Aunt Julia was still in her morning wrapper, and
was looking decidedly worried.

"Marjorie," she began in a rather fretful tone, as she closed the door,
and sank wearily into the arm-chair, "I am very much distressed by what
Elsie tells me. I have come to ask you what it all means."

Marjorie raised a swollen, tear-stained face from the pillows.

"What has Elsie told you?" she inquired anxiously.

Mrs. Carleton pressed her hand to her forehead.

"O dear!" she sighed, "my head aches so this morning, and I do dislike
all these quarrels and arguments. I did hope you and Elsie would get on
together without quarreling."

"I don't want to quarrel," protested Marjorie; "what does Elsie say
about me?"

"She says you have been very unkind and unjust to her. She won't tell me
what it is all about. I tried to make her tell, but Elsie is so
honorable; she hates tale-bearing. But I know you have hurt her pride,
and made her very unhappy."

Marjorie was silent; what could she say? And after a moment her aunt
went on in her fretful, complaining voice.

"I don't believe you have the least idea what a noble, splendid girl
Elsie is. It was rather hard for her at first when she heard you were
coming to spend the winter, for of course it couldn't help making some
difference. She has never had to share anything with any one else
before. But she was so sweet and unselfish about it, and I did hope
things might go on as they had begun. But now you have begu