r of the playground. She looked after the three girls
who had just passed and were now walking down the path with their arms
around one another. So had she seen them with Clara not so very long
before. She thought she would go over and say something to her old
enemy, but what to say--She had no good excuse. Then she remembered an
exceedingly pretty paper-doll which had been sent her by her Cousin
Louis Morrison. His aunt had painted it and it was much handsomer than
one ordinarily saw. Edna had it in the book she carried. She drew in
her breath quickly, then started over to Clara's corner.

"Don't you want to see my paper-doll?" she asked. "It is such a beauty."
And without waiting for an answer she opened her book and held out the
doll for Clara to see. It was given rather a grudging glance, but it was
really too pretty not to be admired and Clara replied with a show of
indifference, "It is quite pretty, isn't it?"

Edna sat down by her. "I will show you some of her dresses," she went
on. Clara loved paper-dolls, and she could not but be a little
interested. Anything which was painted or drawn was of more interest to
her than most things. She had shown her talent in that way by the fatal
caricature.

"Somebody told me you could make mighty pretty paper-dolls," Edna went
on, bound to make herself agreeable.

"I do make them sometimes," replied Clara a little more graciously, "but
I could never make any as pretty as this. I can copy things pretty well,
but I can't make them up myself."

For a moment Edna struggled with herself. The doll was a new and very
precious possession, but--She hesitated only a moment and then she said:
"Would you like to copy this? I will lend it to you if you would like
to."

There was a time when Clara might have spurned even this kind offer,
setting it down as "trying to get in" with her, but her pride and vanity
had received a blow when the Neighborhood Club was broken up and she
cast forth, and she took the offer in the spirit in which it was meant.
"Oh, would you do that?" she said. "I should love to copy it and I will
take awfully good care of the doll."

"You can take it now," said Edna laying the doll on the other's lap.
There should be no chance for her to change her mind. Clara slipped the
doll into one of her books and just then the bell rang, so they went in
together.

After school Dorothy clutched her chum. "Edna Conway," she cried, "did I
see you talking to Clara Adams?"