“I was to meet Mr. Tobin in the station at a quarter before nine. If I was not there when the train went he was going without me. I was so excited all day I did not have time to stop and think what I was doing, and how terrible it was to run away from uncle and aunt, when they had been so kind to me, even to study with Martini. I looked upon Alex Tobin as my friend and benefactor, instead of a horrid, scheming man, as I see he is now. He just wanted me to play in that restaurant of his for nothing, and draw crowds, and beyond that he really didn’t care what became of me.
“When I lost the money I was nearly frantic, because I was afraid I would miss the train. But when the clock struck nine and I knew the train was gone, I suddenly felt glad, glad, although I had been so anxious to go. For I had come to myself and felt sick at the thought of what I had almost done. Oh, Katherine, how can I ever thank you for keeping me from doing it?”
“Don’t try,” said Katherine cheerfully, rubbing away at a grass stain on her skirt with the wreck of a white silk glove.
For the first time Veronica noticed Katherine’s white dress. “Oh, Katherine,” she exclaimed in distress, “tonight is your class banquet! I heard some of the other girls talking about it. And you have missed it for my sake!”
“Why, so it is,” said Katherine, with a well-feigned start of recollection. “I had forgotten all about it.”
“No, you didn’t forget it,” persisted Veronica; “you deliberately spent the time here with me.”
“Well, never mind about that,” said Katherine soothingly. “It was worth it.”
“Worth it? Oh, Katherine, after the way I have treated you! I once called you a peasant, but you are noble—you are a princess! It is I who am not fit to associate with you!”
“O Glory!” exclaimed Katherine in an embarrassed way. Katherine was like a fish out of water when anyone began to express emotion. “Forget about the whole business,” she said, “and come back into the group. You need to have something on your mind.”
“They will never take me back now,” said Veronica sadly, “after this dreadful thing I did.”