"Oh, why must it be some time? You don't mean it, do you? Say you don't mean it, Mr. Wilton," she implored. "No, no; I was only joking," he said reassuringly. "Quite soon, of course." And he dropped a kiss on the little pink ear that was nearest to him. But when he saw the look on her face, and the quick way in which her breath was coming and going, he blamed himself for his indiscretion, and pushed her playfully outside the door. When Phyllis Hyam came home from the office, that evening, she found Katharine on the floor of her cubicle, mending stockings; while the rest of her wardrobe occupied all the available space to be seen. Katharine never did things by halves, and she very rarely had the impulse to mend her clothes. "Hullo! do you mean to say you are back already?" cried Phyllis, tripping clumsily over the dresses on the floor. "That hardly demands an answer, does it?" said Katharine, without looking up. She threaded her needle, and added more graciously, "I didn't go, after all." "Oh," said Phyllis wonderingly. "I'm sorry." "You needn't bother, thanks. I didn't want to go. I stayed at home instead, and mended my clothes; they seemed to want it, rather. I shall be quite respectable, now." "Oh!" said Phyllis again. "I should have left it for a wet day, I think." "Perhaps your work allows you to select your holidays according to the weather. Mine doesn't," said Katharine sarcastically. Phyllis cleared the chair, and sat down upon it. "You've been crying," she said, with the bluntness that estranged all her friends in time. Katharine never minded it; it rather appealed to her love of truth than otherwise. "Oh, yes! I was disappointed, that's all. There was nothing really to cry about. I don't know why I did. Don't sit there and stare, Phyllis; I know I have made a sight of myself." "No, you haven't. Poor old dear!" said Phyllis, with ill-timed affection. "I should like to tell him what I think of him, I know!" she added emphatically. "What are you muttering about?" asked Katharine. "Oh, nothing," said Phyllis. "Have you had any tea?" "I don't want any tea, thank you. I wish you wouldn't bother. Go down and have your own." "Guess I shall bring it up here instead, and then we can talk," said Phyllis. In about ten minutes she returned, very much out of breath, with a large tray. Katharine looked up and frowned. "I said I didn't want any," she said crossly. However, she added that she believed there was some shortbread on the book-case, which Phyllis at once annexed; and her temper began slowly to improve. "Phyllis," she asked abruptly, after a long pause, "what do you think of men?" "That they are luxuries," returned Phyllis, without hesitation. "If you've nothing to do all day but to play about, you can afford to have a man or two around you; but if you're busy, you can't do with them, anyhow." "Why not?" demanded Katharine. "Don't you think they help one along, rather?"