see me in the hall this morning.” She gave
Doris a meaning look as she said this, but her
lips were pursed in an amused smile.

Doris flushed. The applied color had been
washed from her face before her appearance at
home. “I saw you taking me in,” she pertly
said. “Don't you tell mother, Betty. There isn't
anything wicked about 'make-up.'”

“Is that what Stacia calls it?” asked Betty.
“No, I don't suppose there is anything wrong;
Mother never said no. It's Father and Dick
that say they'll 'wash our faces' if they ever
see us with any on. All the same, Mother
doesn't like it.”

“If you didn't have any more natural color
than Stacia has, you'd use it too, Betty Lee!”
cried Doris, still on the defensive, though Betty
had made no threat whatever.

“I wonder,” said Betty. “Honestly, Doris, I
always feel that I want people to like the real
me, not any painted up face. But I'll not speak
of it to Mother. I know you want to have your
week-end and so far as I know Stacia is a good
enough girl.”

This speech seemed to annoy Doris still
further.

“Oh, you think you're so smart because
you're a junior! Mother has promised and I'd

[[120]]

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