“That depends upon what you mean by the term,” responded Katherine, with a ripple of mirthful laughter.  “I assure you I love a good time as well as any other girl.”

“U-m—­p’rhaps; but I guess it would have to be a—­a—­genteel good time.  There’s one thing I don’t need to ‘guess’ about, though—­you just know how to stand firm on your heels when you need to.”

“What do you mean by that?” questioned Katherine, with a look of perplexity.

“Nobody will ever make you take a back seat—­not even his highness downstairs, when you know you’re right.  I say, though”—­she interposed, eagerly—­“weren’t you mad, through and through, at what he said to you just now?”

“Mad?” repeated Katherine, flushing, and wondering if she had unconsciously manifested anything that had seemed like anger or temper during the recent interview.

“Yes; didn’t you feel as if you’d just like to go at him with ‘hammer and tongs’”—­doubling up her fists and striking out suggestively right and left—­“for being so crusty with you about your religion?  I did.”

Katherine laughed out merrily at the girl’s strenuous espousal of her cause, and with a sense of relief to know that she had shown no feeling unworthy of a Christian Scientist.

“No, dear,” she gently replied, “I could not feel anger or resentment towards any one because of a mere difference of opinion.”

“U-m! well, you didn’t show any, that’s sure.  You just faced him, sweet as a peach, but like a—­a queen who knows she’s on her own ground.  I thought, though, you might be just boiling over inside; but if you say you weren’t, I believe you, for I think you’re ‘true blue,’ and I think Prof.  Seabrook might have learned a lesson from you, for I never saw him quite so upset over a little thing before.  I never had any use for Christian Scientists myself; don’t know anything about ’em, in fact.  But if they’re all like you, I don’t believe they’ll ever do much harm in the world.  Here we are, though—­this is Sadie’s room.  She’s an orphan, too, but she is very rich, and I tell you she just knows how to make her money fly—­isn’t a bit stingy with others, either,” the voluble girl concluded, as she paused before a door at the head of the stairs in the second story of the west wing and rapped vigorously upon it for admittance.

“Come in,” responded a good-natured voice, whereupon Jennie opened the door and entered a sunny, inviting apartment, the sight of which instantly gave Katherine a homelike feeling.

She also saw two pretty beds, on one side of the room, piled high with a motley assortment of dresses and finery that made her wonder how one person could ever make use of so many things, while an attractive girl was sitting upon the floor before the one dressing case, her face flushed and perplexed as she tried to pack another promiscuous collection into the insufficient space that would henceforth belong to her.