“You see, Raquel,” Lois went on desperately, “I hated you before I ever saw you. Jimmy Hovey always wrote such wonderful things about you and held you up to me, and I couldn’t bear it. Jimmy had always made a pet of me. And I just adored him. But he teased me too, and told me my faults. I guess I always had my own way with papa, but Jimmy would not give in to me. And that used to make me so angry. I can remember crying with rage. And then Jimmy would just walk away, and wouldn’t pay any attention to me. And _I_’d have to be the one to give in. I just hated it. But I always _did_ give in, because I was so crazy about Jimmy. And I wanted him to like me, and to admire me. “When I grew older and went to The Towers I suppose it was just because I couldn’t wind Jimmy round my finger that I cared so much for his opinion. Of course I know it did me a lot of good--his trying to discipline me. I got a little practice in letting some one else have his own way. “But Jimmy shouldn’t have teased me so. He should have seen how cruel it was. And when he praised you it made me hate you. Then, when you came to school, it seemed as if here was one way I could get the better of Jimmy. He couldn’t _make_ me like you if I didn’t want to. “It was horrid and hateful, I know. Oh, Raquel, can you ever forgive me? I spoiled your school, your only school.” Lois repeated the last words anxiously. Raquel had scarcely spoken during her confession. “It’s all right, Lois,” she said at last with some difficulty. It was hard for her to understand the complicated psychology of Lois’ experience. “I guess I was hateful to you, too, when you wanted to speak to me there once or twice. And I never told Jimmy a word about your being in the West. That was pretty bad, you know. Because he might have missed you, for all I knew.” “But, Raquel, he is still there, isn’t he? And we shall see him when we do get back? I’ll tell him just what I did. Because it’s only right he should know. And, Raquel, I’ll tell you something else. I met your brother.” “Yes, I know that.” Raquel grinned. “What, he told you? When?” “When he came up to the ranch for Christmas, he described you. You were looking at a shawl, which he promptly bought for my mother. Just because you _were_ looking at it, I guess.” Lois blushed. “And we met him by chance driving home from a ranch Christmas afternoon. The driver lost the road and Custer, your--your brother, got out and drove in our car, and showed us the way. I didn’t know it was he, of course. I didn’t know who it was. “But I was just crazy about him! I am yet! Only when I learned his name, I didn’t know how to act; so, as usual, I was horrid again. And I wouldn’t have done it for anything, if I could have helped it.” Lois began to cry, her face puckered up like a baby’s. Raquel laughed outright.