Yet, as she held the coral necklace in her hand tonight, she hesitated deeply whether it would be wise to appear at the Elliot-Smiths’ in her treasured ornaments.

Rose had not felt comfortable all day.  She had banished thought with the usual device of extra hilarity:  she had crushed the little voice in her heart which would persistently cry, “Shame! shame!” which would go on telling her, “You are the meanest, the most wicked girl in St. Benet’s; you have done something for which you could be put in prison.”  The voice had little opportunity of making itself heard that day, and, as Maggie Oliphant evidently did not intend to investigate the matter, Rosalind had every hope that her sin would never be found out.  Nevertheless, she could not help feeling uneasy; for why did Annie Day, her own chosen and particular friend, so persistently avoid her?  Why had Lucy Marsh refused to walk with her yesterday? and why did Annie so often look at her with meaning and inquiry in her eyes?  These glances of Annie’s caused Rosalind’s heart to beat too quickly; they gave her an undefined sense of uneasiness.

She felt as she stood now before her glass that, after all, she was doing a rash thing in wearing her coral.  Annie Day knew of her money difficulties; Annie knew how badly Rosalind had wanted four guineas to pay the debt she still owed for the ornaments.  If Rosalind wore them to-night, Annie would ask numerous questions.  Oh, yes, there was a risk—­ there was a decided risk—­ but Rosalind’s vanity was greater than her fears.

There came a knock at her room door.  To Rosalind’s surprise, Annie Day’s voice, with an extremely friendly tone in it, was heard outside.

“Are you ready, Rosie?” she cried; “for, if you are, there is just room for you in the fly with Lucy Marsh and Miss Singleton and myself.”

“Oh, thank you!” cried Rosalind from the other side of the door; “just wait one moment, Annie, and I will be with you.”

Both fear and hesitation vanished at the friendly tones of Annie’s voice.  She hastily fastened on her necklace and earrings, slipped on her bracelets and stuck the coral pins in her hair.  She saw a dazzling little image in the glass and turned away with a glad, proud smile.

“We can’t be kept waiting.  Are you ready?” called Miss Day’s voice in the passage.

“Yes, yes; in one moment, Annie, dear,” replied Rosalind.  She wrapped herself from head to foot in a long white opera cloak, pulled the hood over her head, seized her gloves and fan and opened the door.  The coral could not be seen now, and Annie, who was also in white, took her hand and ran with her down the corridor.

A few moments later the four girls arrived at the Elliot-Smiths’ and were shown into a dressing-room on the ground floor to divest themselves of their wraps.  They were among the earliest of the arrivals, and Annie Day had both space and opportunity to rush up to Rosalind and exclaim at the perfect combination of white silk and pink coral.