"What I mean is that you and I aren't exactly friends." Duane lifted her glance now, and kept it fixed on Kitty, but merely remarked coolly: "Aren't we?" "You know we are not," replied Kitty, a little impatiently. "We never have been. We felt--felt antagonistic the very first moment we met each other." "You did, I suppose," rejoined Duane. "I don't know that I felt anything at all. However, that's no reason why we need go on being antagonistic, is it?" "What do you mean?" demanded Kitty, bluntly. Duane leaned back in her chair and smiled lazily at Kitty. "Why shouldn't we be friends now?" Kitty flushed again, and moved uneasily, her agony of embarrassment mounting. Duane tilted her chair back and went on cheerfully: "You don't seem in a hurry to speak. After all, there's no reason why we shouldn't be friends, is there?" "I'm sorry," Kitty blurted out. "I'd rather not. You see----" she stopped. "Well? Out with it!" "It's the Richoter," poor Kitty went on, growing hotter and hotter, and angry with herself for feeling so uncomfortable under Duane's lazy, quizzical glance. "I--you see--I couldn't be friends with--with anyone who----" "Oh, that's it, is it?" said Duane. "You're mighty particular." "I don't want to seem a prig. If it had been anything else--but--but that kind of thing----" "Then, the Richoter affair aside, your only prejudice to admitting me to your--your circle of friends, would be gone?" "I don't know," replied Kitty, frankly. "You can't _make_ yourself be friends with anyone, you know. At any rate, I don't think so. We're so utterly unlike, aren't we?" "Are we? Then do you think that people must be alike to be friends?" "They must have tastes in common," replied Kitty, firmly. "At least, so it has always seemed to me." "Why not give it a trial?" suggested Duane. Kitty stood irresolute, conscious that in some curious indefinable way she was attracted by the other girl's proposal and yet repelled at the same time. The affair was settled by the abrupt entrance of France. "Oh, hallo, Kitty! I suppose Duane's told you about digging in with us till Hilary returns? What's that? Doesn't want to? Why not?" "She says we're antagonistic," replied Duane. "What nonsense!" said France, very firmly. "What on earth does she mean? You bring your things along, Kitty, and I'm sure we shall enjoy each other's company while we're here," and Kitty rather reluctantly gave way. CHAPTER VIII CARSLAKE'S v. THE REST France stepped back and surveyed her plasticine model of Duane's profile with an air of satisfaction. "I say, girls," she remarked, conversationally, "I really think Carslake's is being treated with due respect at last. I don't think the other houses have yet recovered from the shock we gave them on Sports Day." Kitty looked up from her book, as if relieved to find an excuse for so doing. "If only we can keep our new reputation," she said seriously. "We mustn't get slack again."