ld woman mysteriously.
"Jest yer eat yer dinnah."

"But I want to know," insisted Bee. Before Aunt Fanny could answer,
however, Adele herself entered the room.

"Uncle William says for you to come right down, Bee. Percival and his
mother are there, and wish to see you."

"Percival," exclaimed Bee. "Why, I thought his mother would not want him
to see me any more?"

"You can't blame her, can you?" asked her cousin pertly. "Bee, whatever
got into you today? Percival looks dreadful with his curls off. What
made you cut them?"

Bee's eyes flashed. She did not reply for a full moment. When she spoke
she said merely:

"Perhaps you would not understand even though I should tell you about
the matter, Adele."

"Perhaps not. Bee Raymond, do you know that you are dreadfully changed?
When you came in the library this afternoon with that bleached hair of
yours flying you looked a perfect fright." Adele giggled, and then added
with some malice: "Uncle William thinks so, too."

"Never mind," spoke Bee frigidly. "You have your good looks so what does
it matter? Just think what a calamity it would be if you were to lose
them!"

"I think you are just as mean as can be to even suggest such a thing,
Bee Raymond. I wouldn't lose my beauty for anything."

"I should hope not," said her cousin cuttingly. "There wouldn't be
anything left to you if you did."

"I couldn't be as ugly as you are if I did lose it," retorted Adele
angrily.

"Oh, I am getting horrid," exclaimed Bee rising, her better nature
coming to her aid. "Simply horrid! I beg your pardon, Adele. You
couldn't be anything but pretty, of course. Will you come down with
me?"

"Oh, it's all right," yawned Adele, quite appeased by Bee's apology. "I
dare say that I should feel just as you do were I in your place. No; I
won't go down. It's you they want to see. They are in the library with
Uncle William."

Bee went slowly down stairs. She felt reluctant to meet Percival, and to
have the subject of the hair cutting reopened. As she entered the
library the boy ran to her, and caught her hand.

"Beefly, you're a brick," he cried. "You see, when my mother came in she
was so angry that I was scared. I think I never was afraid of her before
in my life, so I let you take the blame. And you didn't tell on me at
all. You're a chum worth having. That was twice today that you took my
part."

"Perhaps, my boy, you would not mind telling just how the matter
occurred," suggested