rked down
from a hundred and forty. It'll last me forever."

"A hundred and ten!" Nancy gasped, and then tried to compose her
features so as not to scare Alma with her own breathless dismay.

"I--I don't have to pay her until I get ready," murmured Alma. "I know
Milly won't even think of it again."

"You can't possibly accept it as a present, Alma," said Nancy sternly.
"We must manage to pay Mildred back somehow--soon. She is the last
person in the world whom I'd want to owe anything to. I mean to say,
that people in our position _can't_ put themselves under obligations to
a girl like Mildred Lloyd. It's different if you can return it in some
other way. For instance, it would be all right for Kay Leonard to
accept an expensive present from Mildred, because she could so easily
return it, but for one of us to is like accepting a charity."

Alma looked at her repentantly out of two large, grave blue eyes.

"I--I'm afraid I rather made a mess of everything yesterday, Nancy,"
she said, hanging her head and picking at the soft fur, which somehow
had lost a good deal of its charm for her; then, all at once, evidently
touched by the droll naivete of the sad remark, Nancy burst out
laughing.

"You poor, funny lamb! I'm always worrying you to death," she said.
"Don't bother any more, Alma. I'm sick of bothering, myself. We'll
manage to solve the problem somehow. Only, dearest," she grew sober
again, "please--please don't--I don't want to say it again,--but think
over what I said to you. I'm sure that you will see that I'm very
nearly right. Come, now--you'd better tidy yourself. I'm going to
dress." She bent over Alma and kissed her lightly. As she went toward
the door Mildred met her. They looked at each other coolly, Mildred
barely giving her a nonchalant nod, and then ignoring her altogether.

"Hello, honey-pie. Don't tell me you've been weeping briny tears all
afternoon over what Leland said to you," she cried gaily to Alma.
"Goodness, what a penitent! What's the point in having a good time if
you're going to regret it like that? I have the right idea--I make it
a point never to regret anything."

Nancy walked slowly back to her own room, and dressed for dinner in
silence. It seemed to her that she might indeed be "sick of
bothering," but that did not prevent there being a good deal for her to
bother about.

CHAPTER XII

ALMA IN A SCRAPE

It was the custom of Miss Leland's school to hol