our plans in time. We have already collaborated on several
magazine stories and worked them out beautifully. You see, neither of us
is jealous of the other's work. If we were, then I'd prefer to stay
Kathleen West."

"You are fortunate," remarked Arline almost bitterly. Again a shadow
crossed her face which Grace alone noted.

"I decline to share my successes with any mere man," asserted Elfreda
grandly. "Not that I have been what you might call entirely slighted.
Wait until I tell you the sad story of my one love affair."

"_This_ is vastly interesting," mused Miriam.

"Tell us about it this minute." Arline brightened visibly. Elfreda's
promised tale of tragedy was sure to turn out comedy.

"Let me see," began Elfreda with a fine air of reminiscence. "We met
last year in a corridor of the law school, I was making a wild rush down
and he was making an equally wild rush up. Result, we collided. Just
like that," Elfreda brought her hands smartly together to illustrate the
force of that momentous collision. "I wasn't overcome with joy at this
slam-bang introduction. I had seen him often from afar and never admired
him. He was at least three inches shorter than yours truly, had a snub
nose and freckles. All of which was not romantic.

"That was the beginning; but not the ending. The next time I met him, he
claimed beaming acquaintance. After that he pursued me madly. He was
always bobbing up in the most unexpected places. It gave me a feeling of
being haunted. At first I bore it like a martyr. I hated to hurt his
feelings. After a while it began to get on my nerves. About that time he
began to make sentimental remarks. I carefully explained that I did not
believe in love. That only made matters worse. He rolled his eyes and
vowed that he would convince me. Then he began sending me letters and
love lyrics. The lyrics were so original they were positively weird.

"But in my darkest hour of oppression I stumbled upon a remedy. I
happened to remember a girl who was an art student. I also remembered
that she was terribly sentimental. So I dragged my pursuer along with me
to a water-color exhibition that I knew she expected to attend. They
met. I perpetrated the introduction. It turned out even better than I
had dared to hope. The funny part of it was that both of them were
afraid I'd be angry. The deeper they fell in love, the harder they tried
to keep it from me. After a while Charles, that was my perfidious idol's
name,