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. Nancy, radiating friendliness and good-humor, smiled at Judith as much as to say, "Isn't it jolly?" But Judith hardened her heart and pretended that she didn't see her. The ice-cream was delicious and the tiny cups of black coffee afterwards made them feel very grown-up, and every one but Judith seemed perfectly happy. "What's the matter, Judy?" whispered Nancy, as they went into the drawing-room, for Judith not only felt miserable, she looked miserable--so much so that Miss Meredith made a mental note to ask Miss Marlowe to keep an eye on her and find out if anything were troubling her. "Nothing's the matter," said Judith coldly, turning away and calling out to Frances to wait for her. Nancy felt rebuffed, but loyally sought to find excuses for her friend. "She's been working too hard over that Jessica essay," she said to herself; "she looks awfully tired." Then followed a miserable week. Judith was both jealous and angry; she felt that in telling Sally May what she had said about Tim, Nancy had betrayed their friendship. It was true that Nancy and Sally May were much together; they were making scenery for the Studio Play and were spending many spare hours upstairs working under Miss Ashwell's direction. Judith knew about the play, but she was too angry to be reasonable, so she shut herself up in her books and avoided Nancy as much as possible. Nancy knew quite well now that something had come between Judith and her, and she made two more attempts to find out what was wrong so that if possible things might be righted, but each time Judith rebuffed her, and Nancy was too busy to spend much time coaxing. Sally May, who was held to be a wise little person, told Nancy not to worry. "Judy'll be all right; she is just cross and tired. I really can't see why she works so hard." Sally May, it may be remarked, would never work very hard as long as she lived: she wasn't that kind. "Did you hear Judith give Jane what-for the other day?" she continued. "Jane went into Judy's cubicle with an orange peel and an old piece of rubber cut in the shape of a heart, and called out, 'What price for these personal relics of our beloved Captain Catherine? Her pretty foot has pressed this piece of rubber; it can be conveniently sewed to the camisole and worn next the heart. Her pretty lips once touched this piece of peel'--and she dangled the peel right in front of Judy's eyes. 'Get out of my room quick,' said our polite li
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