All eyes turned on Liane, and she blushed rosy red as she bent lower over the work she was sewing.
"I did not think you would be so ready to take away another girl's chance, Liane."
"But he has broken with Miss Clarke. They quarreled last night," said Lottie Day.
"I did not mean Miss Clarke. I meant myself. Liane knows he has paid me some attention, and that I have set my cap at him! I thought she was my true friend, but I caught her making eyes at him last night!" Dolly exclaimed ruefully.
The gay girls all laughed at Dolly's jealousy, but Liane could not say a word for embarrassment, knowing in her heart how baseless were Dolly's hopes.
"He told me last night that he was free from Miss Clarke; and I believe I could win him if no one tried to spoil the sport. I would never have introduced him to Liane if I had thought she would try to cut me out."
"Oh, Dolly, you know I have not tried. Could I help his coming to speak to me last night?" cried Liane.
"No, but you needn't have encouraged him by flirting when he spoke to you, blushing and rolling up your eyes."
A derisive groan went around among the merry band at Dolly's charge, and Mary Lang spoke up spiritedly:
"Dolly Dorr, you are simply making yourself ridiculous, putting in a claim to Mr. Devereaux because he happened to speak to you once or twice! Any one with half an eye can see he's in love with Liane, and I'll state for your benefit that he told her last night he sent her that bouquet of roses, and he wanted to walk home with her, only Mr. Dean was ahead of him!"
"Oh! Oh! Oh!" ran the chorus of voices, Liane drooping her head in blushing confusion, and Dolly pouting with disappointment, while she cried spitefully:
"He's nothing but a wretched flirt! He flirted with Miss Clarke, and then with me, and next with Liane! I'm glad he got ashamed of himself, and sneaked off; and I hope he will never come back!"
Her little fit of temper spoiled the rest of the day for the girls, and Liane Lester was glad to get away at six o'clock, where, after a while, she could be alone with her own thoughts.
But granny was sniveling, with her apron to her eyes, when she entered the poverty-stricken room.
"What is it, granny? Are you ill?" she asked.