This point of view naturally ended the argument for Katherine; she could only smile again.
"All right—it is your birthday, dear old Tild, so I won't quarrel with you! By the way, where is Bob Hartley? I don't see him here to-night."
The fiancé of Gladys was prevented from coming by a severe cold, she was informed.
And so the evening passed with the Bunny Hug and games, and the gramophone shouted forth its nigger songs, in which they all joined.
"Hasn't it been too lovely, Kitten," Matilda said affectionately—her whilom indignation fled as they walked up the narrow stairs. "I've never had such a perfect birthday party, and I am sure you could not have had a more refined, enjoyable evening, not in any home."
Katherine kissed her as she turned into her room.
"You dear old Tild," she said, and then presently Gladys came in.
Katherine was seated in a shrunk dressing-gown which she had left behind, and Em'ly had lighted a fire in the attic grate.
The two girls looked at one another, and then Gladys was asked to sit down.
"I know what you are going to say," and Katherine's voice was deep and level. "You would not have to say it if you had not always been such a fool, my poor Glad—you have got into trouble, of course, and Bob Hartley is not playing the game."