MATCHED PEARLS by Grace Livingston Hill Page B

thing like that.
    She hurried to splash water on her face, dab it expertly with a soft towel, and then apply powder deftly till all traces of her recent emotion were obliterated.
    As she turned away from the mirror, she experienced a wild wish that she could as easily erase the memory of those flowers from her heart.
    But she went over to her desk with a firm resolve to get to work and drive this nonsense out of her mind. When Doris came in a few minutes later with her hands full of letters, she was working away at her thesis.
    “Listen, Connie,” cried Doris, sitting down beside the desk, “pay attention! I’ve got a letter!”
    “A letter?” said Constance, looking up coolly. “Is that unusual? You seem to have many letters. And really I’m awfully busy, Dorrie!”
    “But this is a special letter!” said Doris, sparkling. “It’s from Casper Coulter!”
    “Again?” said Constance coldly with disapproval in her voice. “I thought you said you were done with him.”
    “Oh, I am as far as that goes,” laughed Doris. “I gave him back his pin before Easter, but it doesn’t seem to faze him in the least. After all, why shouldn’t I have a good time with him? He understands that I’m not committed to him. Besides, Connie, he certainly shows a girl a good time. But anyhow that’s not the point. He’s coming down for the dance on the weekend. He just pestered the life out of me. Besides, he has a new car that is simply sublime. I couldn’t resist.”
    “He’ll get drunk!” said Constance with a lifting of her chin and a slight curl of her lip.
    “No, he won’t!” said Doris. “He promised me! He hasn’t been drinking at all since Easter!”
    “He says so, I suppose,” commented Constance loftily.
    “Yes, he says so, but Sam Warner says so, too. And anyhow, that’s not the point. He’s bringing a perfectly stunning man down with him, and he wants to know if you’ll let him take you to the dance. Now, Connie, don’t begin that I-am-better-than-thou frown! Wait till you hear. He’s not Casper’s chum. He’s ages older than Casp. He graduated four years ago. He’s a perfectly stunning man! A real thrill! He’s dark and interesting and tall. I saw him once while I was in New York last week, and Casper pointed him out to me. He’s written a couple of successful plays, and he’s all kinds of clever, musical and artistic, and awfully popular. Casper is just crazy about him. He’s your line, clever and intellectual and all that.”
    “I’m sure I ought to be greatly honored that Casper Coulter considers me clever and intellectual,” said Constance haughtily, “but really, I must decline to entertain his friends. I just can’t stand Casper’s kind of men.”
    “Now, Connie, don’t be horrid. Just because you’ve joined church don’t go and get disagreeable. You’ve practically got to do this for me, because, you see, I told Casper it would be all right and for him to bring him if he could. And you won’t go back on me now after I’ve given my word, and he’s already been asked.”
    Constance flashed a look of annoyance at her roommate.
    “You had no right in the world to do that, Doris. You know Casper Coulter is not my kind, and I don’t want to have anything to do with him or his friends. I don’t like to go with strangers either. I hate this way of forcing a man to go with a girl he hasn’t even met. I’ve always made it a rule to go only when the man himself asks me. I don’t approve of somebody else picking out partners. And you needn’t give that nasty fling about joining the church. You know it has nothing to do with that. I just don’t like Casper’s crowd or his way of doing things.”
    “Now listen, Connie,” said Doris, settling down earnestly to plead her cause. “You’re all mistaken about this man. Casper has been telling him a lot about you, how beautiful and clever you are, and he’s wild to meet you. It seems he saw you last year in the distance and