nciliation, Nancy began to dress in a
miserable silence.

During dinner Nancy made a pretense at eating, but she could not join
in the chatter with the other girls. Once or twice Charlotte glanced
at her, but with her instinctive gentle tact appeared not to notice
Nancy's blues.

At her table, Alma was feverishly gay; as a matter of fact she was on
the point of tears. Never before had they had such a quarrel, never
before had she seen Nancy so heedlessly angry, never before had they
deliberately tried to say things to hurt each other. Waves of
desperate homesickness assailed her, and with the memory of happy
nights when they had gossiped together in their room at the little
brown house, a lump ached in her throat. She wanted Nancy more than
anyone else in the world. What was it they had said to each other that
had caused such a dreadful coldness between them? She tried to tell
herself that Nancy had misjudged her, that Nancy was wrong, and that
she was right in maintaining her ground; but listening to the banter
that went on around her, struggling to keep up her own end of it
bravely, she felt that not one girl in the room, nor any pleasure in
the world was of the slightest value to her so long as she did not have
Nancy as her confidant and dearest friend.

With these thoughts battering at the foolish pride in their hearts it
would have taken only a whispered word to send the sisters into one
another's embrace, but the reconciliation for which they were both
longing so piteously was postponed by an incident which threatened to
make their quarrel even more serious. It was simply the outcome of an
unfortunate chance. For some time both the girls had known that Miss
Leland had planned to give them different roommates, since she thought
it a good idea for sisters to be separated so that they could make
closer friendships with other girls.

After dinner she spoke of this again, not to Nancy but to Alma, leaving
it to the younger girl to announce the change to Nancy. She had, of
course, no knowledge of their quarrel, nor could she have possibly
gauged the unfortunate timing of the change.

Nancy went up to her room directly after dinner, not waiting for the
usual hour of music and dancing, and giving as her excuse the pretense
that she had some mending to do.

She did, indeed, get out her work-basket as a sort of defense against
unwelcome intrusion, but with a stocking drawn over her hand, she sat
with her ba