ed of myself ever since,
and I can't have you go on thinking me cleverer than I am, any longer."
And then, without waiting to note the effect of her startling
announcement, Elsie turned and fled.

Marjorie and Barbara found her upstairs in the dressing-room, crying as
if her heart would break. Neither of them said a word, but Marjorie put
her arms round her cousin's neck and hugged her.

[Illustration: "IT TAKES A LOT OF PLUCK TO GET UP AND SAY A THING LIKE
THAT."--_Page 355._]

"What are they saying about me?" whispered Elsie, burying her face on
Marjorie's shoulder. "Do they all despise me?"

"Not a bit of it," declared Marjorie, reassuringly. "They're all saying
how plucky it was of you to confess. Lulu says she never liked you so
much before in her life. As for me, I'm so proud of you I don't know
what to do. Oh, Elsie darling, I'm so glad you did it!"

"It was you who made me do it," sobbed Elsie, clinging to her cousin.
"You were so splendid about it all. You knew, and yet you never told any
one, not even Papa when he was provoked with you, because you wouldn't
explain what the trouble between us was. Your brother knew too, Babs,
and he has never said a word, but I know how he has despised me. I've
despised myself too--oh, how I have despised myself! I've been selfish
and conceited all my life, and I didn't care much, but one can't help
feeling mean and ashamed beside girls like you, and brave, wonderful
women like Aunt Jessie. I don't believe I've got one real friend in the
world."

"You've got lots," protested Marjorie and Barbara both together.
"Just come downstairs and see if you haven't."

It was a very quiet, subdued Elsie who reentered the drawing-room,
escorted by her two staunch friends, but the welcome she received was
such that, before the evening was over, she found herself able to smile,
and take a passing interest in life once more. Elsie had many faults,
but she was not a bad girl, and she had learned a lesson that would last
her all her life. One of the first to approach her and hold out his
hand, was Beverly Randolph.

"You're a trump, Elsie," he said, in his blunt, boyish way. "It takes a
lot of pluck to get up and say a thing like that. Let's shake hands and
be friends." And at that moment Elsie was happier than she had been in
months.

"I think I'll just stop a minute to say good-night to Aunt Jessie,"
remarked Marjorie, as they were going up to their apartment in the lift.
"I don't