look here, Marjorie; I wouldn't
bother my head about it if I were you. Miss Elsie is quite able to fight
her own battles."

"But she is my cousin," said Marjorie in a very low voice, "and I'm so
ashamed."

Beverly's face softened, and his voice was very kind when he answered:

"You're a brick, Marjorie; lots of girls wouldn't care. But don't let it
make you unhappy. If I were you I'd have it out with Elsie; perhaps
she'll have some excuse to offer."

Before Marjorie could answer Lulu came up to ask Beverly to come and be
introduced to Betty Randall, who was particularly anxious to meet him,
and he was obliged to hurry away.

"What were you and that English girl talking about so long?" Elsie
inquired, as she and Marjorie were driving home together half an hour
later.

Marjorie roused herself from uncomfortable reflections with a start.

"Oh, nothing in particular," she said, "at least nothing you would be
interested in. She was telling me about her brother, who used to be a
cripple till Beverly Randolph's uncle cured him. He is a fine,
strong-looking boy now--did you notice him?"

"Yes. Did you know their uncle was a lord?"

"Is he?" said Marjorie indifferently, and once more relapsed into
silence. Elsie regarded her cousin in evident surprise.

"What's the matter, Marjorie?" she inquired curiously. "You seem to be
in the dumps, and I'm sure I can't see why. You really danced much
better than I supposed you could. You're not jealous, are you?"

"Jealous," repeated Marjorie, stupidly, "what about?"

"Why, your poem, of course, because you didn't get more votes. It really
wasn't bad; I heard several of the girls say so."

"Of course I wasn't jealous," said Marjorie, indignantly. "I never
dreamed of getting many votes. I think people were very kind to vote for
me at all; it was just silly doggerel."

"Well, you needn't fly into a temper even if you're not jealous,"
laughed Elsie. "Do you know you never congratulated me on my poem. I
think people thought it rather queer, when every one was saying how much
they liked it."

"I couldn't," said Marjorie in a low voice.

"Why not?" demanded Elsie, sharply. She was evidently startled but
beyond a slightly heightened color, she showed no sign of embarrassment.

"I'll tell you when we get home," whispered Marjorie, with a glance at
Hortense, who was sitting in the opposite seat.

Not another word was spoken until the carriage drew up before the big
hotel. Mr.