together, Peggy should occupy the time in discussing the
approaching visit of another friend. Though Priscilla had been making a
gallant fight against her besetting weakness, it occasionally took her
off her guard.

"If I've been saying that for a week," observed Peggy with unruffled
good nature, "I've been talking nonsense. For this is the first day it's
been true."

"Don't be silly, Peggy. You know perfectly well what I mean. For a week
you haven't been able to talk of anything but Elaine's coming."

Peggy made no reply. There was a critical note in the accusation which
she found vaguely irritating, and it seemed to her the wisest course to
let the matter drop where it was. But Priscilla was in the unreasonable
mood when even silence is sufficient ground for resentment.

"Dear me, Peggy, I didn't mean to reduce you to absolute dumbness. By
all means talk of Elaine, if that's the only topic of interest."

"See here, Priscilla!" Peggy straightened herself, an unwonted color in
her cheeks. For all her sweetness of disposition, she had a temper of
her own, and was perhaps no less lovable on that account. "I thought
we'd settled this thing long ago. You know I'm fond of Elaine," she went
on steadily, "and after her hard year, I'm delighted that she can have
an outing up here with the rest of us. It isn't anything I'm ashamed of,
and it isn't anything you've a right to call me to account for. I don't
care any the less for you because I care for Elaine, too."

There are few better tests of character than its response to frankness.
A girl of another sort would have found in this straightforward speech
additional cause for umbrage. Priscilla showed that her faults were only
superficial after all, by her immediate surrender.

"Oh, Peggy," she exclaimed, a choke in her voice. "You don't need to
tell me that. I don't know what ails me sometimes. I should think you'd
lose all patience with me."

A tear splashed down upon her cheek, and Peggy, surprised and touched,
leaned forward to pat the heaving shoulder consolingly. "Never mind,
dear. We won't say another word about it."

"Just one more," pleaded Priscilla. "You know, Peggy, that even when I'm
hateful, I love you better than anybody in the world except my father
and mother. But if you weren't the dearest girl on earth--"

The screen door flew open, and slammed shut with an explosive effect
which might have startled listeners unused to such phenomena. But in a
cotta