Jean Brent whirled about. Her blue eyes flashed. One of the slippers she held in her hand swished through the air and landed with a thud against the opposite wall. The wave of anger with which she faced Evelyn was like the sudden sweep of a gale of wind out of a clear sky. The other slipper followed the first one. Then the doors of the wardrobe were slammed shut with a force that caused it to shake. To Evelyn it was as though a strong current of air had blown upon her. Here, indeed was a temper that outranked her own. "What right have you to speak to me in such a tone?" raged Jean. "You have nothing to say as to what I shall or shall not do. I won't pretend I don't know what you mean. I do know. I don't in the least care what you think about it, either. My clothes are mine to do with just whatever I please. If Miss Harlowe imagines I am going to be a servant to half the girls at Overton for the sake of earning my fees she is mistaken. Why should she or any one else object to my selling my things, if I like? I don't see how you found it out. The girls promised to keep the whole affair to themselves. I don't understand why you should be so concerned, or what it has to do with Miss Harlowe's opinion of you. From what you say I might almost assume that there had been a time when _you_ were not to be trusted." Evelyn's beautiful face was crimson with anger and humiliation. She longed to answer Jean's arraignment with a flood of words as bitter as her own, but her determined effort of months to rule her spirit now bore fruit. "I'm sorry I spoke so abruptly," she said coldly. "I just heard about the sale from Miss Correll. You were quite right in what you said. There was a time when I could not be trusted. My trouble was about clothes, too. Miss Harlowe helped me find my self-respect again, and this year I am trying very hard to be an Overton girl in the truest sense of the word. I am telling you this in confidence because I wish you to understand why Miss Harlowe's good opinion is so dear to me." "You can go and tell her that you knew nothing about the sale," muttered Jean sullenly. Something in Evelyn's frank confession had made her feel a trifle ashamed of herself. Evelyn's violet eyes grew scornful. "How can you suggest such a thing?" she asked. It was Jean's turn to blush. "Forgive me," she said penitently. "I know you aren't a tell-tale. If she asks me about the sale, be sure I'll exonerate you." Evelyn shook her head. "I wish you'd go to her, Jean, and tell her what you have done. Sooner or later she is sure to find it out."