“No. He compromised on half, because Molly had put off asking her. And Ida stayed two weeks longer than she had been asked for, and made eyes all the time at the man Molly really liked herself.” “Yes, poor Molly,” said the girl with the dimple in her chin, “she says the next time her brother offers to pay her for having a girl to visit her, she will send the invitation by telegraph!” “And demand payment in advance,” said the brown-eyed blonde; “of course he would be willing to pay for the telegram, anyhow.” “Yes, and take it to the office, too,” said the president, with a sigh. “Tom used to send off all my telegrams before we were married—he always said it was too far to the office for me to go myself. Now, he says that the exercise will do me good.” “I suppose he doesn’t want to pay for the message,” said the blue-eyed girl. “Oh, I never pay for my telegrams, I always send them at receiver’s cost. People are so curious to know what is in a telegram that they pay without a murmur.” “H’m, I shall have to try that,” said the girl with the Roman nose. “But not on me,” cried the president. “I’ll never forgive you if you do. Oh, girls, did you hear the awful thing that happened to Milly when she sold her bicycle? No? Well, she only got ten dollars for it, because the man said it was in such an awful condition that he only took it to oblige her, and it would be a dead loss on his hands. He told her to come in in about ten days, and he’d have some second hand ones in such good condition that they would be the best bargains in town.” “That was very nice of him, since he made nothing on the transaction,” said the brown-eyed blonde. “So Milly thought. At the end of that time she went back, and found one that she liked very much, it being the same make as her old one. He wanted sixty dollars for it, but she beat him down to fifty, and took it home with her at once for fear he would change his mind. What do you think she found when she got home? That she had bought her own old machine back again!” “But how did she know that?” asked the girl with the Roman nose. “By the number on the plate, goosie. He had put on new pedals, raised the seat a bit and given it a new coat of enamel—making forty dollars on the transaction! And when Milly wanted her husband to punish him for his rascality, he only laughed until she actually thought seriously of applying for a divorce!” “And no wonder,” said the blue-eyed girl. “One man will do a mean thing and another will uphold him. You don’t find women doing such things for each other!” “No, indeed,” said the girl with the dimple in her chin; “our own standard of feminine behavior is so high, that we hardly even give each other credit for the good things we do!” “I’ve often noticed that,” said the girl with the eyeglasses, “and I regret to see that men are unable to appreciate our lofty motives, and often set it down to envy.”