orable Christmas day when Mary had
shown her so plainly that she respected the flag of truce for the day
only and had returned to her former state of antagonism at the first
opportunity. In the beginning it had been hard to stifle her impulsive
nature, and appear courteous yet wholly unconcerned regarding her chum's
welfare, but in time she found it comparatively easy. Friendship was
dying hard, yet it _was_ dying, nevertheless. This thought had startled
Marjorie a little as she recalled how easy it had been to be
disagreeable, where once it would have seemed absolutely impossible to
allow those cutting words to pass her lips. It came soberly to her that
morning as she walked into the dining room that, after all, she did not
wish that friendship to die. Something must be done to keep it alive
until Mary was quite herself again.

The faint line of concern which appeared between her dark brows deepened
as this latest conviction took hold of her. As she pondered, the object
of her thoughts appeared in the doorway. Mary's face wore an air of
listlessness that quite corresponded with her subdued, "Good morning,
Marjorie. Good morning, Captain."

"You look all tired out, my dear," remarked Mrs. Dean solicitously.
There was a curiously pathetic droop to Mary's mouth which gave her the
appearance of a very tired child who had played too hard and was ready
to be put to bed, rather than to begin the day's round of events. "Did
you dance too much?"

"No." A peculiar little smile flickered across the girl's pale features.
She wondered what Mrs. Dean would say if she told her just how she had
spent her evening.

Marjorie regarded Mary almost curiously. In some indefinable way she had
changed. Then it flashed across her that Mary's usual stubborn
expression had given place to one of distinct sadness. With a kindly
endeavor toward lightening her chum's heavy mood, she tried to draw her
out to talk of the party. She met with little success. As Mary, in
reality, knew nothing further of it than the fact that Mignon had worn a
gypsy costume and that the majority of the boys invited had not put in
an appearance, she was hardly prepared to describe the affair. She,
therefore, answered Marjorie's questions in brief monosyllables and
volunteered no information whatever.

"I am going over to see Jerry Macy this morning. Would you like to go
with me?" asked Marjorie, after her attempt to discuss the party had
proved futile.

"No; I than