Rose, who was delicately fastidious about all her own belongings, could never understand how Pauline allowed her room to be so untidy, and as she opened the box and took out the pot of polish she blushed to find herself thinking of Aunt Dinah and her kitchen drawers in _Uncle Tom’s Cabin_. She took the boots away and cleaned them, and brought them back. “Mrs. Richards isn’t in the kitchen, Pauline. She hasn’t gone, has she?” “Poor dear little Rosie! Was she afraid she was going to be left all alone?” laughed Pauline. “She has only gone to get me a hansom, dear. I shall spoil my dress if I go by omnibus, and it is too far to walk. Have you five shillings in your purse you can lend me? I am hard up till the end of the term.” Rose produced the five shillings, which was not by any means the first loan Pauline had asked for. She hated herself for feeling so hurt and angry with her friend, and she was glad to lend her the money she wanted. Life would become quite intolerable in the flat if she was going to lose her belief in Pauline. “Won’t you think better of it and go to the concert?” Pauline said, when she was ready to start. “It is really silly of you to stay at home, dearest. I wouldn’t have accepted Madame Verney’s invitation if I had thought you would not go. But you see how it is, don’t you? Her cousin is at the French Embassy, and she is sure to get to know a lot of people. She may introduce me to a great many pupils.” This sounded reasonable, and Pauline’s voice was most kind and caressing, yet somehow the hurt feeling remained in Rose’s heart. She saw that Pauline was delighted to go. She did not really care in the least about her disappointment. “He will be sure to play again,” she answered, “I shall go for a walk in the Park. What time shall you be back, Pauline?” Pauline hesitated. “Don’t expect me till the evening, darling. Madame Verney spoke about my going back with her to tea. Shall you be very lonely? I never used to trouble about Clare. She went her way, and I went mine. And”-- “You need not trouble about me,” Rose flashed out, her colour rising. “I should be sorry to spoil your afternoon, Pauline.” Pauline looked at her with grieved eyes. “It will make me most miserable if I leave you angry with me. Don’t you know that I would far, far rather have gone with you? Rosie, you know that, don’t you?” But Rose had a stubborn love of truth, which prevented her from responding to this appeal as Pauline wished. “It would have been a pity for you to refuse Madame Verney,” she said. “And I shall have a nice afternoon. I will make some cakes, I think. I want to astonish Aunt Lucy and Wilmot when I go home. I shall make Wilmot let me make Tom’s birthday cake.” Pauline patted her cheek. “What a child you are still, Rosie! When you have been a month or two in London, you will find yourself growing up. But I must start. How does this dress suit me? Do you think there is just a little too much yellow about it?”