"What a perfectly rotten thing to say!" insisted Catharine resentfully. "You know she's on the level!"
"Well then, where does she get it? You know what her salary is?"
Athalie said, coolly: "Every girl ought to believe every other girl on the square until the contrary is proven. It's shameful not to."
"Come over to the Egyptian Garden and try it!" laughed Doris. "If you can believe that bunch of pet cats is on the square you can believe anything, Athalie."
Catharine, still very deeply offended, rose and went into the bedroom which she shared with Doris. Presently she called for somebody to assist her in dressing.
Doris, being due at the theatre by seven o'clock, put on her rusty coat and hat, and, nodding to Athalie,
walked out; and the latter went away to aid Catharine.
"You do look pretty," she insisted after Catharine had powdered her face and neck and had wiped off her silky skin with the chamois rag.
The girl gazed at her comely, regular features in the mirror, patted her hair, moistened her red lips, then turned her profile and gazed at it with the aid of a hand-glass.
"Who else is going?" inquired Athalie.