Kathleen eyed her with a contemptuous smile. "My dear Miss Harlowe, you must be very obtuse to imagine even for an instant that I would spoil a good story by writing only what you gave me permission to write. What do you know of the requirements of my paper, or of the style in which a story should be written? The story was too good to let pass. I knew, though, that you would never consent to allowing me to use your name. So I said 'Very well,' and used it. 'Very well' can hardly be construed as a promise."
The smiling insolence of the other girl's manner was almost too much for Grace's self-control. Twice she essayed to speak, but the words would not come. When she did find her voice she was dimly surprised at its tense evenness.
"Miss West, I made clear to you in the beginning my reason for not wishing you to use my name in connection with what occurred in Oakdale or in any other story you might write. I gave you the news I had stumbled upon willingly. Why could you not have written a clever, interesting story without betraying my confidence?"
"Don't attempt to take me to task for not living up to some ridiculous standard of yours," returned Kathleen savagely. "If you did not wish to see yourself in print, you were extremely silly to tell your tale to a representative of the press. To gather news for my paper is my business. Do you understand? I shall use whatever information comes my way, unless some good reason arises for not using it."
"As in the case of your Christmas story last year, which you decided at the last moment not to send," supplemented Grace with quiet contempt.
Kathleen did not reply. Grace's remark had struck home. She had not forgotten her treacherous attempt to spoil Arline's and Grace's Christmas plans of the year before.
"Even in the face of last year I did not believe you capable of such treachery," continued Grace, her youthful voice very stern. "I am in a measure to blame for having trusted you. I should have known better."
The newspaper girl winced at this thrust, but said nothing.
"And to think," Grace went on bitterly, "that I broke my promise to my father for a girl so devoid of loyalty and honor that she could not understand the first principle of fair play!"
Grace's bitter denunciation aroused fully the other girl's deep-seated resentment against her. "Leave this room," she cried out, her voice rising, her eyes snapping with rage. "Don't ever come here again. This room belongs to me——"