r. And you'll rue the day you ever asked her into your house."

Ordinarily one would reprove one's cook for such freedom of speech, but
I had brought it on myself. Therefore I saved my breath, put on my
hat, and went out, ruminating and somewhat shaken in my mind to have
the two household authorities against me.

However, true to my determination to make her visit as attractive as
possible, I purchased at least a dozen sorts of fine French marmalades,
jellies, sweets, and fancy pickles, such as schoolgirls love.

She had told me so many times how she had always wanted her breakfast
in her room, but had never been able to have it, that I decided to give
her that privilege in my house. I told Mary with some misgivings, and
showed her the things I had bought. To my surprise, Mary assented
joyfully. I never knew why until after Flora left. Then Mary told me.
I even selected the china she was to use on the breakfast-tray. It was
blue and gold. Flora loved blue. Then I took a final look at
everything, gave a few last orders, and dismissed all worry from my
mind.

Her room, _the guest chamber_ of the Jardines, was fresh for her. No
one had ever slept in that bed, fluttered those curtains, nor written
at that desk. Flora would be its first occupant.

And how her blond beauty matched its pale blue and gold loveliness! It
gave me thrills of delight to think of her in the midst of it all.

But of course it was Cary I loved. Flora simply fascinated me. She
possessed the attractions of a Circe, but Cary was worth a million of
her, and I knew it and I wanted her to have Artie Beg, or anybody else
on earth she fancied. The whole proposition was as plain as day when I
came to think about it. I was Cary's champion, Cary's friend, and
intended Cary to win. Why, therefore, had I permitted myself to be
inveigled into asking Flora to visit me, under the supposition that I
was going to help her? It was not because Cary had begged me to. Not
at all. It was Flora herself who had managed it, I reflected, and it
gave me a bitter, uncomfortable twinge to realize that whatever Flora
had wanted me to do, in our brief friendship, I had done, no matter
whose judgment it went against.

Had the girl hypnotic power, or was I a weak fool to be flattered into
doing her bidding?

I don't like to think of myself as a weak fool, even for the sake of
argument.

The two girls had hated each other at sight, as was natural. Cary
a