"I am," agreed Patty, calmly. "Not one girl in a dozen would forgive you. It was a horrid thing to do, and you ought to be ashamed of yourself and you are. I know that. But I choose to forget the whole affair, and I only ask you never to treat anybody else so meanly."
"I never will," promised Ray Rose. "I think you have cured me of that childish trick of 'getting even.'"
"Yes, till next time," said Patty, laughing.
CHAPTER VIII
A REAL POEM
"It's simply absurd of you, Patty," said Elise, as they reached home after the circus, "to let Ray Rose off so easily. She cut up an awfully mean trick, and she ought to be made to suffer for it."
"Now, now, Elise, it's my own little kettle of fish, and you must keep out of it. You see, it makes a difference who does a thing. If Ray Rose were an intimate friend of mine, I should resent her performance and make a fuss about it. But she is such a casual acquaintance,—why, probably I shall never see her again after I go away from Lakewood,—and so I consider it better judgment to ignore her silly prank, rather than stir up a fuss about it."
"I don't agree with you, you're all wrong; but tell me the whole story.
What did she do?"
"You see, she was determined to do that hoop dance, and the only way she could think of, to get me out of it, was to get me over to her house and lock me up there. It was a slim chance I had of getting out, but I managed it. She called me over by telephone, and then locked me in her bedroom. How did she get my clothes?"
"Sent a maid over here, saying that you were at her house and wanted your costume sent over. I thought you were helping her, in your usual idiotic 'helping hand' way, and I sent the dress and all the belongings."