“You flatter yourself,” drawled Grace, as she turned away from the mirror.  “Anyway, I once read that a girl should never allow herself to look homely, even when she’s alone.”

“Goodness, if I have to work so hard to be beautiful,” retorted Mollie, holding her letter up to the light in a vain attempt to read its contents through the envelope, “I’d rather be good and homely and comfortable.”

“If all wishes were so easily granted,” Grace began, but at the look in Mollie’s eyes thought better of it.  “I meant,” she corrected herself blandly, “that, of course, you can never be anything but beautiful, Mollie.”

“Well, I don’t know, of course,” said Mollie, with the same vengeful light in her eyes, “but I’m always suspicious of any one who goes to extremes.”

“Never mind your suspicions, Mollie,” cried Betty, with a happy ring in her voice, as the last of the quartette climbed in under the covers.  “All that really interests me now is the fact that I have a couple of letters that are just begging to be read.”

“Yes, and I’d like to know if that’s fair,” said Grace, looking injured.  “We only got one apiece, while here you are rolling in luxury—­”

“And they’re both in the same handwriting—­Allen’s of course,” added Amy, peeping over Betty’s shoulder.  “Why does he write you two letters that he knows will both reach you in the same mail, Betty?”

“Just to be original, I suppose,” answered Betty, striving to speak calmly while a hot flush mounted to her forehead.  “Anyway,” she added lightly, “I suppose the best way to satisfy our curiosity would be to read our letters and find out.”

“Oh, I forgot,” cried Grace, pushing back the covers and slipping out of bed.  “There’s just one thing better than reading letters.”

“Now what are you after?” cried Mollie despairingly.  “Well,” she added, tearing open her letter decidedly, “there’s one thing certain,—­I’m not going to wait another minute!”

“Well, nobody asked you to,” retorted Grace, slipping back into bed with the precious candy box under her arm.  “And, what’s more,” she added threateningly, “if you’re going to be uncivil, I won’t ask you to share my candies.”

“Goodness! now isn’t that the limit?” cried Betty suddenly, and they looked at her in surprise.  She, in her turn, having thought aloud, flushed and turned back to the letter.  “I’m sorry,” she stammered.  “I really didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

“No you don’t, Betty Nelson!” cried Mollie, slipping a hand over Allen’s letter and forcing Betty to meet her eyes.  “We won’t any of us read another word till you tell us what you were going to say.”

“Well, you don’t need to,” Betty was beginning when she met Mollie’s eyes and laughed resignedly.

“Oh, all right,” she capitulated.  “I was simply going to say that the nosy old censor crossed out a whole line just at the most interesting part.”