Two persistent newspaper men swung themselves upon the car also and insisted on addressing her.
"Excuse me, gentlemen," she said, "I am not acquainted with you." They eagerly produced their cards--and said they were "newspaper men." "I see," said Diantha, "But you are still men?
And gentlemen, I suppose?
I am a woman, and I do not wish to talk with you." "Miss Bell Declines to Be Interviewed," wrote the reporters, and spent themselves on her personal appearance, being favorably impressed thereby.
But Miss Bell got off at the next corner and took a short cut to the house where she had rented a room.

Reporters were waiting there, two being women.
Diantha politely but firmly declined to see them and started for the stairs; but they merely stood in front of her and asked questions.

The girl's blood surged to her cheeks; she smiled grimly, kept absolute silence, brushed through them and went swiftly to her room, locking the door after her.
The reporters described her appearance--unfavorably this time; and they described the house--also unfavorably.

They said that "A group of adoring-eyed young men stood about the doorway as the flushed heroine of the afternoon made her brusque entrance." These adorers consisted of the landlady's Johnny, aged thirteen, and two satellites of his, still younger.

They _did_ look at Diantha admiringly; and she _was_ a little hurried in her entrance--truth must be maintained.
Too irritated and tired to go out for dinner, she ate an orange or two, lay down awhile, and then eased her mind by writing a long letter to Ross and telling him all about it.