If Mary could have known how long she lay awake that night, devising some scheme to help her out of her difficulty, she would not have been so surprised next morning when a hesitating voice spoke up from the opposite bed, just after the rising bell.
"Mary, will you promise not to get mad and throw things at me if I ask you something ?" She went on hurriedly, for they both recalled a scene when such a thing had happened.

She felt she had blundered by alluding to it.
"I wouldn't dare ask it at all if I didn't know that you had failed with your candy, and might want to raise your Christmas funds some other way.
No, I guess I'd better not ask you, after all.

It might make you furious." Mary sat up in bed, not only curious to know what it is Ethelinda was afraid to ask, but wondering at her hesitancy.

Heretofore she had stopped at nothing; the most cutting allusions to Mary's appearance, behaviour and friends.

They had both been appallingly frank at times.
Their growing friendship seemed to thrive on this outspokenness.
"Oh, go on!" begged Mary.