upon the dancing corks that she failed to note
the swift glance which Bea darted in her direction.

"Um-m-m," she said cautiously, "I think I might like an upper class girl
or two. Some of them have been awfully kind to me this year. Sue Merriam
escorted me to the first Hall Play, and she proposed our names for Alpha,
and on her birthday she asked me to sit at her table and meet some
seniors as an invited guest. She said the "invited" with such a thump on
it that my heart almost broke. Isn't she the greatest tease?"

No answer.

"It was mostly due to her that I came to college," continued Bea with an
effort to speak naturally though her fingers shook the least bit in their
grasp of the brush, and one anxious eye was watching Lila's face. "I've
known her all my life. She persuaded the family to send me, and she
tutored me last summer and helped in a million different ways. You don't
understand how much I owe her. It is such a little thing to invite her to
my--to our party. I'd love to do it, Lila."

Still no answer. The silence lengthened out minute after minute. Finally
Bea ventured to raise her head and hold up another card for inspection.
"See, a new daisy, but this one has a different disposition. Do you
observe the expression--sort of grinning and cheerful? This is like Sue,
while the first one is like you, an earnest young person, not one bit
impudent. See it, lady. The dearest flower-face. I love it."

"And yet"--Lila's voice sounded choked, "you want to invite her to the
party. You know it will spoil my pleasure. You--know--I--hate--her."

Bea's frame trembled once in a nervous shiver. Her fascinated eyes
followed Lila to the window, where she stood staring out at the dazzling
winter world of snow.

"You must choose between Susan Merriam and me. I have a right to demand
it. I have a right. I have a right."

Bea saw Lila lift her arm as if to brush away the tears. Then one hand
fumbled for her handkerchief, while the other squeezed the burned corks
with unconscious force. She was certainly wiping her eyes.

"You must--you must--choose to-day--between Susan Merriam and me. If you
choose her, I shall never speak to you again. If you choose me, you must
have nothing to do with her. Nothing! You must drop her acquaintance. You
cannot have both."

Bea suddenly tipped back in her chair, teetered to and fro for a frantic
moment, then brought it down with a bump on all four feet.

"Nonsense!" she snapped.

L