“I wouldn’t dare ask it at all if I didn’t know that you had failed with your candy, and might want to raise your Christmas funds some other way.  No, I guess I’d better not ask you, after all.  It might make you furious.”

Mary sat up in bed, not only curious to know what it is Ethelinda was afraid to ask, but wondering at her hesitancy.  Heretofore she had stopped at nothing; the most cutting allusions to Mary’s appearance, behaviour and friends.  They had both been appallingly frank at times.  Their growing friendship seemed to thrive on this outspokenness.

“Oh, go on!” begged Mary.  “I’d rather you’d make me furious than to keep me so curious, and I’ll give you my word of honour I won’t get mad.”

“Well, then,” began Ethelinda, slowly, “you know I had such a cold last week when the hair-dresser came, that I couldn’t have my usual shampoo, and she always charges a dollar when she makes an extra trip just for one head.  She wouldn’t come this week anyhow, no matter how much I paid her, because she is so busy, and I simply must have my hair washed before the night of the tableaux.  So I thought—­if you didn’t mind doing a thing like that—­for me—­you might as well have the dollar.”

There was a pause.  A long one.  Ethelinda knew that Mary was recalling her speech about a lady’s maid, and felt that the silence, so long and oppressive, was ominous.  If she had asked it as a favour, Mary would not have hesitated an instant.  The other girls often played barber for each other, making a frolic out of the affair.  But for Ethelinda, and for money!  That made a menial task of it, and her pride rose up in arms at the thought.

“Now you are mad!  I knew you’d be!” came in anxious tones from the other bed.  “I wish I had kept my mouth shut.”

“No, I’m not,” asserted Mary, stoutly.  “I’m making up my mind.  I was just thinking that you wouldn’t do it if you were in my place, and I wouldn’t do it to keep myself from starving, if it were just for myself, but it’s for Jack.  I’d get down and black the shoes of my worst enemy for Jack, and under the circumstances, I’m very glad to accept your offer, and I think it is very sweet of you to give me such a chance.  You shall have the best shampoo in my power to give as soon as you are ready for it.”

Later, she paused in her dressing, thinking maybe she had not been gracious enough in expressing her appreciation, and said emphatically, “Ethelinda, that was awfully good of you to think of a way to help me out of my difficulty.  Last night I was so down in the dumps, and so disappointed over Jack’s Christmas present, that I thought I never could smile again.  But now I’m so sure it is coming out all right that I am as light-hearted as a bit of thistledown.”

Ethelinda made some trivial reply, but immediately began to hum in a happy undertone.  She was feeling surprisingly light-hearted herself.  The role of benefactor was an unusual one, and she enjoyed the sensation.