etting angry, or by jumping at conclusions. Now, listen
to me."

There was a peremptory note in her voice that I was glad to obey. I
resolved not to interrupt her again.

"Don't misunderstand me," she went on, "and please don't be angry when
I say you are about as able to cope with the situation as a new born
baby would be. That's the reason why I want you to let me come down
and be a big sister to you. Will you?"

"Of course. You know I will," I returned. "But won't Dicky resent--"

"Dicky won't dream what I'm doing," she retorted tartly, "and when he
does wake up I'll take care of him."

Always the note of domination of Dicky! Always the calm assumption,
which I knew was justified, that no matter what she did he would not,
remain angry at her! It spoke much for the real liking I felt for
Lillian Underwood that the old resentment I felt for this condition of
things was gone forever. I knew that she was my friend even more than
Dicky's, and her history had revealed to me to what lengths she would
go in loyalty to a friend.

"You see," she went on, "If the Draper woman were the ordinary type of
model there would be no problem at all. Dicky has always been a sort
of Sir Galahad of the studios and he had been too proud to engage
in even a slight flirtation with any girl in his employ. He is very
sincerely in love with you, too, and that safeguards him from any
influence that is not quite out of the ordinary.

"But I tell you this Draper girl is a person to be reckoned with.
She is hard as nails, beautiful as the devil, and I believe her to be
perfectly unscrupulous. She is as interested in Dicky as she can be
in any one outside herself, and I think she would like to smash things
generally just to gratify her own egotism."

"You mean--" I forced the words through stiff lips.

"I mean she is trying her best to make Dicky fall in love with her,
but she isn't going to succeed."

"But I am afraid she has succeeded!" The wail broke from me almost
without my own volition.

"Why?" The monosyllable was sharp with anxiety.

I knew better than to keep my part of the story from her. I told her
of Dicky's growing coldness to me, his anxiety to get the train upon
which Miss Draper traveled, the neighborhood gossip, his determination
not to have me meet her sister. I also laid bare the coldness with
which I had treated the girl, and my determination never to say a word
which would lead Dicky to believe I was jealous of her