"But suppose," said the practical Teddy, "suppose Van Austin should be no truer to her than to you?"
Janet compressed her lips and her eyes flashed. "Then he is so far removed from a hero that I could wish to see him dashed down to the nethermost regions of misery. But seriously, Ted, I don't believe that of him. I think he only thought he was in love with me, but that this is the real thing, and I shall do all I can to further her interests and his, and you must, too, if you love me."
The tears sprang to Teddy's eyes. She Was not demonstrative, but she laid her cheek against Janet's dark hair.
"Janet, dear," she said, "I have known you for over five years, but I never before discovered what is really in you. I couldn't be as unselfish as you. I would be like most other girls and would want to spite both of those two. I couldn't forget myself."
"But I am not forgetting myself," said Janet. "I am remembering myself all the time; that's just it. Don't make a saint of me, Ted."
An hour later, when Teddy had finished her work and was about to go to bed, she stole to Janet's door to see if she were still up. She beheld her sitting at her writing table, her head resting on her arms, her whole attitude one of weariness and dejection. Teddy stole back to her room very softly and shook her fist at some invisible person.
"Oh, you fiend," she whispered, "I could flay you alive."
It was a day or two after this that Cordelia, commenting upon Polly, brought troubled thoughts to Janet.
"How is pretty Polly Perkins going to get through her mid-year's creditably," said Cordelia, "if she spends so much of her time on outside things? It is as much as any of us can do to pull through without dancing off to studios every afternoon and spending all our Saturdays in sewing for other people."
"Polly has to do it; you know that, Cordelia," protested Janet. "She couldn't make expenses, you well know, if she didn't do such things. She makes the greater part of her money by going to Miss Thurston's studio."