days. And if Betty refused to answer she would say slyly, "Who met you
at the station, did you tell me? Oh, only Dottie King?" until Betty
almost decided to stop her by telling the whole story.

Two days before the reception she took Rachel and Katherine into her
confidence about Helen's dress.

"You see if I could only look at it, maybe I could show her how to fix
it up," she explained, "but I'm afraid to ask. I'm pretty sure she's
sensitive about her looks and her clothes. I should want to be told if I
was such a fright, but maybe she's happier without knowing."

"She can't help knowing if she stays here long," said Rachel.

"Why don't you get out your dress, and then perhaps she'll show hers,"
suggested Katherine.

"I could do that," assented Betty doubtfully. "I could find a place to
mend, I guess. Chiffon tears so easily."

"Good idea," said Rachel heartily. "Try that, and then if she doesn't
bite you'd better let things take their course. But it is too bad to
have her go looking like a frump, after all the trouble we've taken with
her dancing."

Betty went back to her room, sat down at her desk and began again at her
Livy. "For I might as well finish this first," she thought; and it was
half an hour before she shut the scarlet-covered book with a slam and
announced somewhat ostentatiously that she had finished her Latin
lesson.

"And now I must mend my dress for the reception," she went on
consciously. "Mother is always cautioning me not to wait till the last
minute to fix things."

"Did you look up all the constructions in the Livy?" asked Helen. Betty
was so annoyingly quick about everything.

"No," returned Betty cheerfully from the closet, where she was rummaging
for her dress. "I shall guess at those. Why don't you try it? Oh, dear!
This is dreadfully mussed," and she appeared in the closet door with a
fluffy white skirt over her arm.

"How pretty!" exclaimed Helen, deserting her Livy to examine it. "Is it
long?"

"Um-um," said Betty taking a pin out of her mouth and hunting
frantically for a microscopic rip. "Yes, it's long, and it has a train.
My brother Will persuaded mother to let me have one. Wasn't he a brick?"

"Yes," said Helen shortly, going back to her desk and opening her book
again. Presently she hitched her chair around to face Betty. "Mine's
awfully short," she said.

"Is it?" asked Betty politely.

There was a pause. Then, "Would you care to see it?" asked Helen.

Betty w