"Peggy," she said with an unmistakable effort, "if it isn't too much trouble, I wish you'd tell Mrs. Ely that I'll do those cuffs for her."
Peggy turned with a joyful exclamation, and caught Elaine in her arms. "You dear thing. I think that's just splendid of you." Then, without giving her courage time to cool, she rushed on, "And, O, Elaine, you don't know how I hated to say what I did. You'll forgive me, won't you?"
"I shouldn't have forgiven you, if you'd said what you didn't believe," Elaine returned, her lips trembling. "I didn't want sugar-plums, Peggy. I wanted the truth. I've got to do something to earn money, and if I haven't any chance one way, I've got to try another. And, besides," she added, voicing a truth which many people apparently lose sight of, "it's a lot easier always to say something pleasant than to say what's true."
Peggy went home in a glow. She was proud of the stand Elaine had taken, and grateful to her for realizing that friendly sincerity may be a costly gift. "And she's such a sensitive girl, too," Peggy thought. "She was really annoyed because I didn't quite like the kodak picture of her."
The recollection of Elaine's face came before her as the thought took shape, and she seemed to see in its expression something more than annoyance. Why should Elaine have cared? Unconsciously Peggy laid the matter of the photograph away in some secret drawer of her memory, along with several other little perplexities, to await a future solution.
CHAPTER X
RUTH IS PERPLEXED
Peggy was in her room, combing her hair, when Ruth came in. At the sound of her voice in the hall, Peggy pushed the door ajar, and hailed her cheerily.
"Hello, there! Come on upstairs. I'm trying to do my hair Anna's way, and I'm having such a time."
She had turned back to the mirror, and was struggling with the rebellious locks when Ruth burst into the room, somewhat out of breath after her hasty ascent of the stairs. "O, Peggy!" she panted. "The awfullest thing!"