"Percival," exclaimed Bee. "Why, I thought his mother would not want him to see me any more?"
"You can't blame her, can you?" asked her cousin pertly. "Bee, whatever got into you today? Percival looks dreadful with his curls off. What made you cut them?"
Bee's eyes flashed. She did not reply for a full moment. When she spoke she said merely:
"Perhaps you would not understand even though I should tell you about the matter, Adele."
"Perhaps not. Bee Raymond, do you know that you are dreadfully changed? When you came in the library this afternoon with that bleached hair of yours flying you looked a perfect fright." Adele giggled, and then added with some malice: "Uncle William thinks so, too."
"Never mind," spoke Bee frigidly. "You have your good looks so what does it matter? Just think what a calamity it would be if you were to lose them!"
"I think you are just as mean as can be to even suggest such a thing, Bee Raymond. I wouldn't lose my beauty for anything."
"I should hope not," said her cousin cuttingly. "There wouldn't be anything left to you if you did."
"I couldn't be as ugly as you are if I did lose it," retorted Adele angrily.
"Oh, I am getting horrid," exclaimed Bee rising, her better nature coming to her aid. "Simply horrid! I beg your pardon, Adele. You couldn't be anything but pretty, of course. Will you come down with me?"