ack. You see, I don't want Mildred--I mean this is a sort of
Dutch treat----"

"Why, of course," laughed Nancy, touched and a little bit hurt by
Alma's embarrassment. Heretofore they had borrowed and lent to each
other without the thought of explaining why they needed the money, and
her sister's constraint marked with painful clearness her sense of the
coldness between them. "How much do you want?"

"Could you lend me--ten dollars? Or seven would do. I won't use it
all, of course, but--but it's better to have it."

Ten dollars was a good bit more than either of the girls had spent on
any pleasure before the Porterbridges' dance; but Nancy said nothing,
and going to her top bureau drawer, took out her pocketbook and gave
Alma the bill without a second glance into the purse.

"Oh, _thank_ you--oh, Nancy!" Alma looked into her sister's face, and
the tears came suddenly to her eyes.

"Goodness, you don't have to thank me like that," said Nancy, flushing.
"You know that it's no more my money than yours, dear----"

"You're--you're so good to me, Nancy---oh--I didn't mean----" and all
at once Alma, who could restrain her sweet impulses no more easily than
her weak ones, flung her arms around Nancy, and burst out crying. "Oh,
darling Nancy, don't be angry with me any more. I can't bear it!"

"Alma, dearest---I'm _not_ angry--oh, I'm so glad--so glad!" cried
Nancy, in tears, too; they clung together fiercely, every hard word
forgotten in the joy of "making up."

"There, darling, you'll miss your train. There now, it's all just as
it was. Oh, see, your hat's all over your eye"--they began to laugh
tremulously. "You'd better put a little cold water on your face,
sweetheart--and dust a little powder over it."

They hugged each other again, and, as Alma ran down the hall, Nancy
stood at the door watching her, with brighter eyes than she had had for
a week. But when Alma had disappeared below the landing of the stairs,
she walked back into the room with a sober expression.

A quarter of an hour later she went again to the top bureau drawer to
get out her gloves, and then thinking for the first time of the amount
of money she had left herself, realized that she could have barely
sufficient, if that, to defray her expenses of her own day in town.
Each of the girls had taken fifteen dollars to last them as pocket
money up until Thanksgiving--a little she had already spent on
shoe-laces, ribbons and so on, and she