"Not a bit of it," declared Marjorie, reassuringly. "They're all saying how plucky it was of you to confess. Lulu says she never liked you so much before in her life. As for me, I'm so proud of you I don't know what to do. Oh, Elsie darling, I'm so glad you did it!" "It was you who made me do it," sobbed Elsie, clinging to her cousin. "You were so splendid about it all. You knew, and yet you never told any one, not even Papa when he was provoked with you, because you wouldn't explain what the trouble between us was. Your brother knew too, Babs, and he has never said a word, but I know how he has despised me. I've despised myself too--oh, how I have despised myself! I've been selfish and conceited all my life, and I didn't care much, but one can't help feeling mean and ashamed beside girls like you, and brave, wonderful women like Aunt Jessie. I don't believe I've got one real friend in the world." "You've got lots," protested Marjorie and Barbara both together. "Just come downstairs and see if you haven't." It was a very quiet, subdued Elsie who reëntered the drawing-room, escorted by her two staunch friends, but the welcome she received was such that, before the evening was over, she found herself able to smile, and take a passing interest in life once more. Elsie had many faults, but she was not a bad girl, and she had learned a lesson that would last her all her life. One of the first to approach her and hold out his hand, was Beverly Randolph. "You're a trump, Elsie," he said, in his blunt, boyish way. "It takes a lot of pluck to get up and say a thing like that. Let's shake hands and be friends." And at that moment Elsie was happier than she had been in months. "I think I'll just stop a minute to say good-night to Aunt Jessie," remarked Marjorie, as they were going up to their apartment in the lift. "I don't believe she has gone to bed yet if Dr. Randolph is spending the evening. Tell Aunt Julia I'll be right up, Elsie." So Marjorie stepped out of the lift with the Randolphs, while Elsie went up another floor to her own apartment. Mrs. Randolph had insisted that Miss Graham should be her guest on leaving the hospital, and one of the most comfortable rooms in the apartment had been assigned to her. It was Mrs. Randolph herself who opened the door for the young people; she was smiling, and looked as if she were pleased about something. "Has Aunt Jessie gone to bed?" Marjorie asked. "No, dear, she is in the parlor with Uncle George, and I think she wants to see you." Barbara hurried her mother off to her room, to tell of the events of the evening, and Beverly followed, at a mysterious signal from Mrs. Randolph, so Marjorie was the only one to enter the cozy little parlor, where she found her aunt and the doctor sitting on the sofa side by side.