Jean and Bettie were dressing for dinner the next night when Sallie, in a most unusual state of excitement, burst into their room, and flung herself upon Jean’s bed.
“I’m—I’m so mad I could scream,” sobbed Sallie, thumping the pillow with her clenched fist and lashing the air with her feet. “I could kill all that Rhodes family. I—I—I—”
But now Sallie’s words were drowned in sobs.
“Goodness, Sallie, don’t cry so,” said Jean. “You’re in an awful state.”
“Who wouldn’t be in an awful state if—if—” More sobs.
“There, there,” comforted Jean, patting the heaving shoulders. “Get a glass of water for her, Bettie. That’s right. Now take a little drink, Sallie.”
“If—if it were anybody but you,” said Sallie, suddenly jerking herself upright, “I’d throw that water straight in your face! I’m so mad!”
But Sallie clawed the wet hair from her own face, drank the water and handed the glass to Bettie.
“There, now,” said she. “I guess I can talk. You know where I room up on the top floor with Abbie? Well, you know and everybody else knows that Abbie has no money; and that I have just about as much as Abbie has which is just none at all. We are the only people in this school who have no spending money. The other Doctor Rhodes used to give—”
“The other Doctor Rhodes,” gasped Bettie.