"Why, it was Marion who'd asked me to tea on Saturday!"
"Oh, was it? You never told me that. How was I to know?"
Lesbia sat down on her boot-locker and relieved her feelings by giving a very plain and unflattering opinion of her chum's conduct.
"I stuck to my part of the bargain," she wound up wrathfully.
"But you didn't. You told her another week would do quite as well."
"Because I thought I was going to the theatre. You'd asked me."
"Well, Marion didn't know that. It's all a mix up. What am I to do? Tell her about it?"
"No, if she's accepted she'd better go."
"I'm most dreadfully sorry, Lesbia! I wish we'd another ticket."
"Oh, it can't be helped now!" and Lesbia rather ungraciously wrenched her arm from Calla's apologetic grasp, banged on her hat anyhow, and fled from the cloakroom, feeling about the crossest girl in Kingfield.