[Illustration: "You're right in the fashion, Miss Brown, " observedAdele. --_Page_ 25. ]

 MOLLY BROWN'S SENIOR DAYS

 BY NELL SPEED

 AUTHOR OF "MOLLY BROWN'S FRESHMAN DAYS, " "MOLLY BROWN'S SOPHOMORE DAYS, " "MOLLY BROWN'S JUNIOR DAYS, " ETC. , ETC. 

 _WITH FOUR HALF-TONE ILLUSTRATIONS BY CHARLES L. WRENN_

 NEW YORK HURST & COMPANY PUBLISHERS

 Copyright, 1913 BY HURST & COMPANY

CONTENTS

 CHAPTER PAGE

 I. GOOD NEWS AND BAD 5

 II. A TROUBLED SUNDAY 20

 III. GOSSIP OVER THE TEACUPS 38

 IV. THE SENIOR RAMBLE 51

 V. ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL 66

 VI. THE RETORT COURTEOUS 77

 VII. A STOLEN VISIT 89

 VIII. BARBED ARROWS 104

 IX. THE SUBSTITUTE 114

 X. THE POLITE FREEZE-OUT 126

 XI. THE WAYS OF PROVIDENCE 138

 XII. FRIENDLY RIVALS 152

 XIII. THE DROP OF POISON 164

 XIV. JUDY DEFIANT 180

 XV. THE CAMPUS GHOST 195

 XVI. ON THE GRILL 208

 XVII. A CHRISTMAS EVE MISUNDERSTANDING 220

 XVIII. TWO CHRISTMAS BREAKFASTS 236

 XIX. FACING THE ENEMY 251

 XX. THE JUBILEE 267

 XXI. FAREWELLS 277

 XXII. THE FINAL DAYS 289

ILLUSTRATIONS

 PAGE

 "You're Right in the Fashion, Miss Brown, " observed Adele _Frontispiece_

 Before She Had Time to Realize the Danger, Jimmy Lufton Had Torn Off His Coat 132

 Molly Glanced Back. Sure Enough, the Phantom ... Was Running Behind Them 198

 Good-bye to Wellington and the Old Happy Days 303

~Molly Brown's Senior Days~

CHAPTER I. 

GOOD NEWS AND BAD. 

Summer still lingered in the land when Wellington College opened hergates one morning in September. Frequent heavy rains had freshened thethirsty fields and meadows, and autumn had not yet touched the foliagewith scarlet and gold. The breeze that fluttered the curtains at thewindows of No. 5 Quadrangle was as soft and humid as a breath of May. Itwas as if spring was in the air and the note of things awakening, pushing up through the damp earth to catch the warm rays of the sun. Itwas Nature's last effort before she entered into her long sleep. 

Molly Brown, standing by the open window, gazed thoughtfully across thecampus. Snatches of song and laughter, fragments of conversation andthe tinkle of the mandolin floated up to her from the darkness. It waslike an oft-told but ever delightful story to her now. 

"Shall I ever be glad to leave it all?" she asked herself. "Wellingtonand the girls and the hard work and the play?"

How were they to bear parting, the old crowd, after four years ofintimate association? Did Judy love it as she did, or would she notrather feel like a bird loosed from a cage when at last the gates wereopened and she could fly away. But Molly felt sure that Nance would feelthe pangs of homesickness for Wellington when the good old days wereover. 

All these half-melancholy thoughts crowded through Molly's mind whileJudy thrummed the guitar and Nance, busy soul, arranged the books on thenew white book shelves. 

Presently the other girls would come trailing in, the "old guard, " totalk over the events of that busy first day: Margaret Wakefield, bursting with opinions about politics and woman's suffrage; prettyJessie Lynch, and the Williams sisters whose dark lustrous eyes seemedto see beyond the outer crust of things. Last of all, after a discreetinterval, would come a soft, deprecating tap at the door, and Otoyo Sen, most charming of little Japanese ladies, with a beaming, apologeticsmile, would glide into the room on her marshmallow soled slippers. 

"Everybody's late, " exclaimed Judy, unexpectedly breaking in on herfriend's preoccupation. "I do wish my trunk were unpacked. I can't bearto be unsettled. It's the most disagreeable thing about the first day ofcollege. "

"Why don't you go unpack it, then, lazybones?" asked Nance, a triflesternly. As much as she loved her care-free Judy, she never quiteapproved of her. 

"How little you understand my nature, Nance, " answered Judy, reproachfully. 

"I know that people who pride themselves on having the artistictemperament never like to unpack trunks or do any kind of so-calledmenial work, for that matter. But there can be just as much art inunpacking a trunk as in a painting a picture----"

"Ho, ho!" interrupted Judy, who loved these discussions with herserious-minded friend. "How would you like to engage for all your lifein the immortal work of unpacking trunks?"

"I never said anything about doing it always--" broke in Nance, when theargument was brought to a sudden end by the arrival of the other girls. 

There was a great noise of talk and laughter while they drapedthemselves about the room. 

College girls in kimonos never sit in straight-backed chairs. Theyusually curl themselves up on divans or in Morris chairs, or sit, Turkish fashion, on cushions on the floor. 

"Well, and what's the news?" they asked. Most of them had caught onlyflying glimpses of each other during the day. 

"Wait until I make my annual inspection, " ordered Judy, carefullyexamining the fourth finger of the left hand of every girl. "No rings ormarks of rings, " she said at each inspection until she came to Jessie, who was endeavoring to sit on her left hand while she pushed Judy awaywith her right. "Now, Jessica, no concealments, " cried Judy, "and fromyour seven bosom friends! It's not fair. Are you actually wearing asolitaire?"

"I assure you it's my mother's engagement ring, " Jessie protested, butJudy had extricated the pretty little hand on the fourth finger of whichsparkled not one, but two, rings. 

"Caught! Caught, the first of all!" they cried in a chorus. 

"Honestly and truly I'm not. "

"It looks to me as if you had been caught twice, Jessie, " said Mollylaughing. 

"No, no, one of them is really Mama's and the other--well, it was lentto me. It's not mine. I simply promised to wear it for a few months. "

Jeers and incredulous laughter followed this statement. 

"We only hope you'll hold out to the end, Jessie, " remarked Katherine intones of reproach. 

"What, leave dear old Wellington and all of you for any ordinary, stupidman? I'd never think of it, " cried Jessie. 

"I'm not afraid, " here put in Edith. "Fickle Jessica may change her mindand her ring half a dozen times before June. Who can tell?"

"I'm not fickle where all of you are concerned, anyhow, " answered Jessiereproachfully. 

"You're a dear, Jessie, " broke in Molly. She never did quite enjoyseeing other people teased. 

"Will some one kindlee make for me explanation of the word 'jubilee'?"asked Otoyo Sen, seated cross-legged on a cushion in the very center ofthe group, like an Oriental story-teller. 

"Jubilee?" said Edith. By an unspoken arrangement, it was always left toher to answer such questions. "Why jubilee means a rejoicing, acelebration. "

"There will be singing and dancing and feasting greatlee of many daysenduring?" asked Otoyo. 

"It depends on who's doing the enduring, " Edith said, smiling. 

"Wellington will be enduring of greatlee much rejoicing, " went on thelittle Japanese. "For Wellington will give jubilee entertainment forfifty years of birthday, perhaps, maybe. "

Here was news indeed for seven seniors at the very head and front ofcollege affairs. 

"And where did you get this interesting information, little one?"demanded Margaret. 

Otoyo blushed and hesitated; then cocked her head on one side exactlylike a little song sparrow and glancing timidly at Nance, replied:

"Mr. Andrew McLean, second, he told it to me. "

Nance smiled unconcernedly. She never dreamed of being jealous of thefunny little Japanese. 

"And why, pray, didn't Miss Walker announce it this morning at chapelwhen she made her opening address?" asked Margaret. 

"Ah, that is for another veree sadlee reason, " answered Otoyo, her voicetaking on a mournful note. "You have not heard?"

"No, what?" they demanded, bursting with curiosity. 

"Professor Edwin Green, the noble, honorable gentleman of EnglishLiterature, he is veree ill. You have not heard such badlee news? MissWalker, she will announce nothing of jubilee while this poor gentlemanlies in his bed so veree, greatlee ill. "

"Why, Otoyo, " cried Molly, her voice rising above the excited chorus, "is it really true? You mean dangerously ill? What is the matter withhim?"

"He has been two weeks in the infirmaree with a great fever. "

"You mean typhoid?"

Otoyo nodded. It was a new name to her. She had not had much to do withillness during her two years in America, but she remembered the dreadname of typhoid. It had a sad association to her, for she had beenpassing the infirmary at the very moment when a black, sinister lookingambulance had brought Professor Edwin Green from his rooms to thehospital. 

Molly relapsed into silence. Somehow, the joy of reunion had beenspoiled and she tasted the bitterness of dark forebodings. It came toher with unexpected vividness that Wellington would not be the samewithout the Professor of English Literature, whose kind assistance andadvice had meant so much to her. Only a little while ago she had made asecret resolution to seek him in his office on the morrow for counsel ona very vital question. In plain words: how to avoid being a schoolteacher. And now this brilliant and learned man, by far the brighteststar in the Wellington faculty, was dangerously ill. Molly felt suddenlythe cold clutch of disappointment. 

The other girls were sorry but not really shaken or unnerved by thenews. 

"The jubilee must be to celebrate the fiftieth birthday of the newWellington--" began Margaret, after an interval of silence. "Do yousuppose--" she began again and then broke off. 

"Suppose what?" asked the inquisitive Judy. 

"Oh, nothing. It would seem rather unfeeling to put in words what I hadin my mind. I think I'll leave it unsaid. "

There was a silence and again came that cold clutch at Molly's heart. She felt pretty certain that Margaret had started to say:

"Do you suppose, if Professor Green dies, it will interfere with thejubilee?"

"If there is a jubilee, " suddenly burst out Judy, who had been lyingquite still with her eyes closed, "if they do give it, we shall be atthe head and front of it being seniors, and I already have a wonderfulsuggestion to make. Would it not be splendid to have an old Englishpageant? The whole college could take part in it. Think of the beautifulcostumes; the lovely colors; the rustic dances and open air plays on thecampus. "

Judy's eyes sparkled and her face was flushed with excitement. With heramazing faculty for visualizing, the spectacle of the pageant stretchedbefore her imagination like a great colored print. She saw the caperingjesters in cap and bells; ox carts filled with rustics; the pageant ofknights and ladies and royal personages; the players; the dancers----

"It would be too glorious, " she cried, beside herself from her inflamedimagination. 

The other girls, unable to follow Judy's brilliant vision, watched herwith amused curiosity. 

"I should think you would remember that Professor Green was at hisdeath's door before you began making plans for a jubilee, " admonishedNance. 

But Judy, too intoxicated with her visions to notice Nance's reproof, continued:

"They would have it in May, of course, when the weather is warm andeverything is in bloom. First would come the pageant; then the king andqueen and court would gather as spectators in front of all the variousside shows; morality plays and----"

The picture had now become so real to Judy that her gallopingimagination had leaped over every difficulty, as the hunter leaps theintervening fence rail. In a flash she had decided on her own costume, of violet velvet and silk--a gentleman of the court, perhaps--whenMolly, sitting pale and quiet beside the window, suddenly remarked:

"Miss Walker did look very serious this morning, I thought. Just beforechapel I saw her in the court talking to Dr. McLean. She must have hadbad news then. "

Judy's inflated enthusiasm collapsed like a pricked balloon. She flushedhotly and relapsed into silence. Presently, after the others haddeparted to their rooms, she crept over to Molly and sunk on her kneesbeside her at the open window. 

"I didn't mean to be such a brute, Molly, darling, " she said. "I forgotabout your being such friends with the Greens and I really am awfullysorry about the Professor. Will you forgive me?"

"You foolish, fond old Judy, " said Molly, slipping an arm around herfriend's neck. "I only dimly heard your wanderings. I was so busythinking of--of other things; sending out hope thoughts like MadeleinePetit. Poor Miss Green! I wonder if she knows. She has been in Europeall summer. I had post cards from her every now and then. "

Molly looked wistfully through the darkness in the direction of theinfirmary. "I wish I knew how he was to-night, " she added. 

"I'll go and inquire, " cried Judy, leaping to her feet, eager to makeamends for past offenses. She glanced at the clock. "The gate isn'tlocked until a quarter past to-night on account of the late train. There'll be time if I sprint there and back. "

"But, Judy, " objected Molly. 

"Don't interfere, and don't try to come, too. You can't run and I can, "and before either of the other girls could say a word, Judy was out ofthe room and gone. 

"I don't know what we are going to do about her, Molly, " Nance observed, as soon as the door had slammed behind that impetuous young woman, "she's worse than ever. "

Molly shook her head silently. Suddenly she felt quite old andapathetic, like a person who has lost all ambitions and given up thefight. 

"I think I'll turn in, Nance. I'm tired to death. "

With silent sympathy, Nance turned down the cover of Molly's littlewhite bed and laid out her night-gown. 

It seemed an incredibly short time when Judy burst into the room again, too breathless to speak, her face scarlet with running. 

"I just did make it, " she gasped presently. "The night nurse saidProfessor Green was very ill, but that Dr. McLean was hopeful because ofhis strong constitution. "

"I feel hopeful, too. Thank you, Judy, dearest, " said Molly, drawing thecovers up over her shoulders while Nance turned out the light. 

CHAPTER II. 

A TROUBLED SUNDAY. 

It was Sunday morning and Molly had been washing her head. She hadspread a towel on the window-sill and now hung her hair out of thewindow that sun and wind might play upon her auburn locks. 

"I always heard it was better to dry the hair by the sun than by a fire;hot air dries up the natural oils, " she observed to Nance in a muffledvoice. 

Nance was engaged in the meditative occupation of manicuring her nails. As she rubbed them back and forth on a chamois buffer her thoughts werebusy in far other fields. 

"Yes, " she replied absently to Molly's observation. "I suppose youlearned that from Judy's new friend, " she added, coming back to herpresent beautifying occupation. "She'll be introducing rouge to usnext, " Nance went on in a disgusted tone. 

Molly smiled and gave her hair a vigorous shake in the breeze. In thebright sunlight it sparkled with glints of gold as if a fairy wand hadtouched it. 

"No, I didn't, really, " she answered. "I read it on the beauty page of aSunday paper, but I knew it anyhow instinctively before I read it. "

"Do you think her hair is naturally red, " asked Nance, punching the dullend of her orange stick into a sofa cushion with unusual force. 

"I suppose lots of people ask the same question about mine, " Mollyanswered evasively. 

"Never, " Nance asserted hotly. "I don't know much about the subject butI do know that no dyes have ever been invented that could imitate thecolor of your hair. "

"How do you know it, Nance, dear?"

"Well, because so many people would dye their hair that color. Therewould be no more drab browns like mine, or rusty blacks or faded tans. "

"But, Nance, your hair is lovely. It's smooth and glossy and fine andthick. Has that girl been talking to you about your looks?"

"They both have, " admitted Nance. "They've got me to thinking I'm plainbut would be greatly improved if I wore a rat and waved my bang and didmy hair in a bunch of curls in the back like Jessie. "

"But Jessie's hair curls naturally, " put in Molly. 

"Yes, of course, and mine doesn't. It would be a fearful nuisance, butone can't help listening to such talk when it concerns oneself. You knowhow Judy does run away to things, and there is something convincingabout Adele's arguments. "

"She's very bright, " admitted Molly. "What do you think she wants me todo, Nance? Something much worse than crimping. "

"There is no telling. Probably lather your face with that horriblewhite-wash stuff called 'Youthful Bloom, ' Judy was telling us about. "

"No, worse still. She says my face is too thin and that I am gettinglines from nose to mouth. She wants me to have it filled. "

Nance gave a wild whoop of derision. 

"Can't you see Judy Kean's head being stuffed with such nonsense untilit bursts?" she cried, breaking off suddenly as the door opened and Judyherself appeared on the threshold. 

"May I bring in a visitor?" she asked stiffly, feeling from the suddenstillness that her own name had been under discussion. "Nobody likes tohave her name bandied back and forth even between intimate friends, " shethought with some indignation. But Judy's little fly-ups never lastedlong and when Molly called out hospitably: "Yes, indeed, delighted, " andNance said: "Certainly, Judy, " her sensitive feelings immediatelywithdrew into the dark caverns of her mind. 

"I've brought a _friend_ up to see our rooms, " Judy went on, puttingspecial emphasis on friend. 

Judy had introduced a new member to the Old Queen's circle and whilethat body was only exclusive in the matter of intelligence and goodbreeding, and the new member seemed to meet both requirements, still thecircle as a whole was not entirely agreeable to Judy's latest find. 

The new girl had a very grand sounding name, "Adele Windsor, " and Judywas hurt when Edith Williams demanded if Adele was related to "The Widowof Windsor. " Adele was certainly very handsome, --tall, with a beautifulfigure, dark eyes and hair more red than brown. 

"She dresses with artful simplicity, " Margaret had remarked, but hardlya girl in college had handsomer clothes than Adele Windsor. 

Nobody could cast aspersions against her intelligence, either. She hadentered the junior class of Wellington as a special; which was prettygood work, in the opinions of our girls. If any name could be given tothe objections they all secretly felt for Judy's new friend, it was thatshe was so excessively modern. She was a product of New York City; andso thoroughly up to date was this bewildering young person regardingtopics of the day, from fashions and beauty remedies to internationalpolitics, that she fairly took the breath away even of such advancedpersons as Margaret Wakefield. 

Adele now followed Judy into the room, and Molly, shaking back the hairfrom her face, bowed and smiled politely. Nance was not so cordial inher greeting. She had already prophesied what the history of Judy'sfriendship with this girl would be. 

"Judy will get terribly intimate and then awfully bored. I know her ofold. "

"You're right in the fashion, Miss Brown, " observed Adele, taking a seatnear Molly and regarding her hair with admiration. 

"That's the first time anybody ever said such a thing about me, "exclaimed Molly with a laugh. "I'm usually three years behind. Now, youcouldn't mean this gray kimono, could you? Or maybe it's my pumps, " sheadded. "I know low heels are coming back again. " Thrusting out one ofher long, narrow feet, she looked at it quizzically. 

"No, no, it's your hair, " replied Adele. "Red hair is the fashion now. You see it everywhere; at the theaters, in society, at the opera----"

"You mean everywhere in New York, " corrected Nance. 

Adele smiled, showing a row of even white teeth. She was really veryhandsome. 

"Well, isn't New York the hub of the world?" put in Judy. 

"No, " answered Nance firmly. "Boston and San Francisco and Chicago andSt. Louis are just as much hubs as New York--to say nothing of thesmaller cities. Any place with telegraph wires and competent people atboth ends can keep up with the times nowadays----"

"Yes, but what about the theaters and operas, " Judy began hotly. 

"And clothes, " added Adele softly, with a quick glance at Molly's oldblue suit which had been well brushed and cleaned that morning and hungon the back of a chair to dry. Molly had not even noticed the glance. She was looking across the campus in the direction of the infirmary andat the same time forming a resolution to go over and inquire forProfessor Green as soon as she could arrange her tumbled hair. 

But Nance had caught the slightly contemptuous expression in Adele'seyes and resented it with warm loyalty. 

"I don't see what clothes have to do with it, " she asserted. "Because inNew York people look at one's clothes before they look at one's face, itdoesn't follow that they are more advanced than people in other places. "

"New York only shows one how to improve one's clothes and one's face, "put in Adele calmly. 

Nance felt somehow reproved by this elegant cold-blooded creature whomJudy had thrust upon them. And now Judy must needs take a flying leapinto the discussion. 

"Nance, you are behind the times, " she cried. "There is no excuse nowfor women to be badly dressed or plain. Even poor people can dress intaste and there are ways for improving looks so that the most ordinaryface can be beautified. "

"Can you make little eyes big?" demanded Nance. 

"Don't be silly, " said Judy. 

And it looked for a moment as if a quarrel were about to be precipitatedbetween the friends, when Molly, glancing at Adele Windsor, began tolaugh. 

"And all this because somebody said red hair was the fashion, " she said, but she had an uncomfortable feeling that Adele was fond of starting afight in order to look on and see the fun, and she wished in her heartthat her beloved Judy had not taken up with such a dangerous youngwoman. She now tactfully changed the subject to the theater. 

Adele had signed photographs of almost all the actors and actresses inthe country and could give interesting bits of personal history aboutmany of them. Having launched the company on this safe topic, Mollyseized the old blue suit and departed into her bedroom. Judy andpresently Nance also were soon absorbed in an account of Miss Windsor'svisit at the home of a famous actress. Molly, indeed, was careful toleave her door open a crack in order not to miss a word. After all, itwas fun to live at "the hub, " as Judy called it, and know great peopleand see the best plays and hear all the best music. But this stunningmetropolitan person did make one feel dreadfully provincial and shabby. She wondered if Adele had noticed the shabby dress. Molly sighed. 

"I don't think clothes would interfere so much with my good times, " shethought, "if only I didn't love them so. "

Then she resolutely pinned on the soft blue felt, which at least was newif not expensive, slipped on her jacket and returned to the next room. 

"I'll see you at dinner, girls, " she said. "Good-bye, Miss Windsor. "

"I'm going to dinner with Adele at Beta Phi, " announced Judy. 

Adele occupied what the girls now called the "hoodoo suite" at Beta Phi. This was none other than Judith Blount's old apartment, afterwardssub-let to the unfortunate Millicent Porter. 

"Shall Nance and I call by for you on the way to vespers, then?" askedMolly. 

"I'm not going to vespers. You don't mind, do you, Molly?"

Ever since they had been at college the three girls had kept theirengagement for vespers on Sunday afternoons. They had actually beenknown to refuse other invitations in order to keep this friendlycompact. And Judy was breaking away from what had come to be anestablished custom. Of course, it was just this once and absurd to feeldisappointed, only Molly, glancing over Judy's head at Adele standing bythe window, had caught a glint of triumph in her eyes. What was sheafter, anyway? Did she wish to wean the tempestuous Judy from her oldfriends? The two girls exchanged a quick, meaningful look. 

"We'll miss you, Judy, " said Molly, and went into the corridor, closingthe door softly behind her. Hardly had she reached the head of thestaircase, when Judy came tearing after her. 

"You aren't angry with me, Molly, dearest?" she cried. "Adele and I havea wonderful scheme on hand. I'll tell you what it is some day. Don't youthink she's perfectly fine? So handsome--so clever----"

"Yes, indeed, " answered Molly, trying to be truthful. "I hope you'llhave a beautiful time, Judy, but we'll miss you just the same, especially on the walk afterwards. Had you forgotten about the walk?"

"Oh dear, Molly, you are hurt, " ejaculated Judy, who couldn't bear to bein anybody's black books, yet, nevertheless, desired to have her ownway. 

"I'm not, indeed, Judy. We can't tie ourselves to Sunday afternoonengagements. Nance and I wouldn't have you feel that way for anything. "

The stormy Judy, calmed by these assuring words, returned to her rooms, while Molly hurried downstairs and across the campus toward theinfirmary. 

A number of people had gathered at the door of the hospital. Dr. McLean's buggy and a doctor's motor car waited outside. There was anominous look about the picture that filled Molly with dark forebodings. Most of the people in the group at the door were members of thefaculty, Miss Pomeroy, Miss Bowles and the Professor of Frenchliterature. They were talking in low voices. Dodo Green and Andy McLeanleaned against the wall of the house, their hands thrust deep in theirpockets, their faces the very picture of dejection. Molly began to run. 

"He's dead!" a voice cried in her heart. "Oh, Dodo, " she exclaimed tothe Professor's young brother, who had run out to meet her, "please tellme quickly what has happened. "

"The old boy's had a tough time, Miss Molly, " said Dodo, struggling hardto keep his voice from breaking. "He had one of those infernal sinkingspells about ten this morning. It was his heart, they say. It's beensomething awful, just a fight to keep him alive. But he's come throughit. The doctor from Exmoor came over to help Andy's father. " Dodo pausedand gulped back his tears and Molly did not dare trust herself to speak. 

"Let's walk a little way down the avenue, " he said presently. "I feelall bowled over from anxiety and waiting around so long. "

"I know, I know, poor Dodo, " said Molly sympathetically. "But he'll getwell, now. I'm sure of it. The doctor said his fine constitution wouldcarry him along. "

"The doctor was thinking of what Edwin used to be, say a year ago. Theold boy has been overworking. The truth is, " he added in a burst ofconfidence, "he got into debt somehow; borrowed money on prospects thatdidn't materialize, or something. "

Instantly the thought of the comic opera came into Molly's head. 

"And he worked all summer without taking any vacation, night and day. Grace was abroad or she never would have allowed it. He just weakenedhis constitution until he was ready to take any disease that happened tobe floating around. "

It was a great relief to Dodo's pent-up feelings to talk and he nowpoured out his troubles to listening, sympathetic Molly. 

"Grace and I don't know what he wanted to use the money for----"

"Maybe it was for the opera. "

"No, I know for a fact it wasn't that infernal old opera, though writingit was one of the things, that pulled him down. But the debt's all paidnow and the good old boy is lying at death's door as a result. By theway, " he added, drawing a key from his pocket, "Sister wants me to getsomething out of Edwin's office on the cloisters. Will you come with me, Miss Molly? There are such a lot of girls always in the court onSunday. "

"I only wish I could do more for you, Dodo, " answered Molly, as the twoyoung people hastened across the campus. 

"I guess you know as much about the old boy's office as I do, MissMolly, " said Dodo opening the study door. "I'm glad you came along tohelp me find what I am looking for. "

"What are you looking for?"

"Did you ever see a blue paper weight on his desk?"

"Oh, yes. Lots of times. "

"Well, that's just what he wants. He's got a sort of delirious notion inhis poor old head that he'd like that blue paper weight. It's enough tomake a strong man shed tears, and he's so weak he couldn't pick up astraw. Alice Fern brought it to him from Italy. "

"Oh, " said Molly. 

They found the blue paper weight in one of the drawers of the desk andDodo thrust it into his pocket. There was a strong smell of over-ripeapples in the office and Molly presently discovered two disintegratedwine saps in the Japanese basket on the table. 

"We'd better take these, " she said, seizing one in each hand andfollowing Dodo into the corridor. 

The young people parted in the arcade and Molly went into the libraryand hid herself in one of the deep window embrasures with a book sheonly pretended to be reading. That afternoon the Reverend GustavusLarsen repeated the prayers for the sick, and Molly in a far back pewhoped that Nance could not see the tears that trickled down her cheeks. 

CHAPTER III. 

GOSSIP OVER THE TEACUPS. 

The gloom that had been hanging over Wellington since Professor Green'sillness gradually lifted as the young man steadily improved. Eachmorning Molly received the latest news from one of the nurses. MissGrace was never visible. She was sitting up at night with her brotherand slept during the day. One morning Molly encountered not the daynurse but Miss Alice Fern in the hall of the infirmary. She was dressedin white linen and might have been taken for a post-graduate nurseexcept that she wore no cap. Miss Fern had a cold greeting for Molly, and for Judith Blount, also, who presently joined them. 

"Edwin is much better, " she informed them. 

"He is seeing people now, isn't he?" asked Judith eagerly. 

Miss Fern stiffened. 

"No, " she answered, "only me--and his brother and sister, of course. "She added this as an afterthought. "It will be many weeks before he isallowed to see any of the Wellington people. The doctor is particularlyanxious for him not to be reminded of his work. Excitement would be verydangerous for him. "

"Is that what the doctor says or is it your verdict, Alice?" put inJudith, who had small liking for the Professor's cousin on the otherside of the family. 

"I'm in entire authority here, " answered Miss Fern in such a hostiletone that Molly felt as if they had been accused of forcing their wayinto the sick room. "I am nursing during the day in conjunction with theinfirmary nurse. "

"Why don't you wear a cap, Alice?" asked Judith tauntingly. "It wouldmake you look more like the real thing. "

With a hurried excuse, Molly hastened out of the hall. It went againsther grain to be involved in the quarrels of Alice Fern and JudithBlount. She was walking rapidly toward the village when she heardJudith's voice behind her calling. 

"Wait, and I'll walk with you. I see you're going my way. I had to stayand give a last dig to that catty Alice Fern, " she added breathlessly, catching up with Molly. 

Molly smiled. She didn't know but that she agreed with Judith, but itwas not her way to call people "cats. "

"I'm so glad you arranged to take the post-grad. , Judith, " she began asthey started down the avenue. 

"Isn't it great?" answered Judith exultantly. "It's all Madeleine'sdoing, you know. We've had a wonderful summer, Molly. Almost the firstsummer I can remember when I wasn't bored. "

"What have you two been up to?" Molly asked with some curiosity. Thecloak of enthusiasm was a new one for Judith to wear and it was verybecoming to her, Molly thought. 

"We've been making money, " Judith announced with sparkling eyes. "I'vemade almost enough to carry me through another year here. "

"Goodness, " Molly thought, "how the world does change. Think of theproud Judith working and then telling me about it, me whom she used todetest!"

"It's been jolly fun, too, and I didn't mind the work a bit. "

"I hope you made a great deal, " remarked Molly, not liking to ask toomany questions but burning to know how money had been made by a girl whohad once stamped her foot and declared she would never work for aliving. 

"A friend of brother Richard's, an actor, lent him his bungalow on thecoast for the summer, and Mama and Madeleine and I spent four months init, with Richard down for the week-ends. It was a pretty bungalow with abig living-room and a broad piazza at the back looking right out to sea, and Madeleine conceived the notion of opening a tea-room there. Richardwas willing and so was Mama and we started in right away. Madeleine hadall sorts of schemes for advertising in the post office and at thegeneral store, and at last we had a sign painted and hung out in fronton a post. The coast road goes by the house and streams of automobilesare passing all day long, so that we began to have lots of customersimmediately. I don't know how it happened, but it was a sort offashionable meeting place for all the people in the neighborhood. Prettysoon we had to buy dozens of little blue teapots and crates of cup andsaucers and plates. Even Mama helped with the sandwiches and Richard, too, when he could come down. But you should have seen Madeleine. Everyafternoon she put on a cap and apron and turned waitress. She servedeverybody. She was the neatest, quickest, prettiest little waiting maidyou ever saw. Mama and I worked in the kitchen filling orders. Sometimesthe sandwiches would give out and then Mama and I and Bridget, ourIrish maid who has stayed with us through everything, would slice breadlike mad. Madeleine knew dozens of different ways of making sandwiches. We used to make up dishes of fillings ahead of time and keep them onice. Sometimes at night we were so tired we'd simply fall into bed, butwe succeeded beyond our wildest dreams and we had a splendid time inspite of the hard work. "

"I think you are wonderful, " cried Molly. "I should never even havehoped to make anything like that go. "

"It's Madeleine who is the wonder, " broke in Judith loyally. "She hasthe brains and energy of a real genius. "

"Are you down at O'Reilly's this winter? I haven't seen either one ofyou to speak to before. "

"Oh, yes, we have the same old rooms. I'm working up in two or threedifferent subjects and taking a course in physical culture with a viewto teaching it. You know, we are going to open a school, Madeleine andI?"

"Where?" demanded Molly, filled with interest in her old-time enemy'sschemes. 

"We don't know yet. It may be in the South. Madeleine has two more yearshere. I shall go to Paris next year for a course at the Sorbonne, sothat I shall be up in French by the time we are ready to start. "

Molly was almost too amazed over the change Madeleine had wrought inJudith to comment politely on the glowing future Judith mapped out forherself. She recalled how Judith had once insulted the little Southerngirl at a Sophomore ball, and she remembered how Madeleine had said: "Ishall make a friend of her, yet. You'll see. "

"I wish I could make plans and stick to them, " Molly thought. "How can Iever get anywhere when I don't even know where I want to get? If I amnot to teach school, then what am I to do?"

Many times a day Molly asked herself this question. There were timesduring the summer when she heard the call still infinitely far away towrite, and on hot afternoons when the others were napping she wouldsteal down to the big cool parlor with a pencil and pad. Here in thequiet of the darkened room, with strained mind and thoughts on tiptoefor inspiration, she would try to write, but the stories were crude andchildish. Sometimes she would read over Professor Green's letter ofadvice about writing. "Be as simple and natural as if you were writing aletter, " he had said, and her efforts to be natural and simple wereinvariably elaborately studied and self-conscious. 

"I don't see why I want to do what I can't do, " she would cry withdespair in her heart, and then the next day perhaps she would try itagain. 

So it was that Molly had a feeling of unrest that was quite new to her. It was like entertaining a stranger within the gates to admit thisunfamiliar spirit into her mind. And now, as she parted with Judithwith a friendly handclasp, she felt the dissatisfaction more keenly thanever before. 

Her errand in the village that afternoon was really to call on Mrs. Murphy, who, you will recall, was once housekeeper for Queen's. For manymonths the good soul had been laid up with rheumatism and for the sakeof old times the Queen's girls plied her with attentions. The Murphysnow lived in a small cottage near the depot and they were exceedinglypoor, since the office of baggage-master brought in only a small pay. But Mrs. Murphy, crippled as she was, her fingers knotted at the jointslike the limbs of old apple trees, managed to keep her rooms shiningwith neatness. 

"And it's glad I am to see you, Miss, " exclaimed the good woman, muchaged since the days at Queen's. 

She led Molly through a little hallway into the kitchen opening upon asmall garden now bright with rows of cosmos, graceful and delicate incolor, and brilliant masses of vari-colored, ragged chrysanthemums. 

"It's the little Japanese lady that's tended my garden for me allsummer, Miss. She may be a haythen, but she's as good as gold. OurBlessed Mother herself could not have been kinder. "

Molly's heart was filled with admiration for Otoyo, who instead ofmoping about by herself all summer had been making herself useful. 

"I'm ashamed, " she thought. "Madeleine and Judith and Otoyo all make mefeel awfully ashamed. "

In the meantime, Mrs. Murphy had spread a cloth on the little kitchentable and laid out her best cups and saucers. It was her heart's delightto drink tea with the young ladies. 

"And how is the poor gintleman, Mr. Edwin, I mean?"

"He's getting better every day, Mrs. Murphy. "

"And I'm that glad to hear the news. It would have been a sad day forthe poor young lady if she had lost him--though, may the Howly Motherforgive me for saying it, she's not good enough for the loikes of him, I'm thinkin'. "

"Let me pour the tea for you, Mrs. Murphy, " Molly interposed, taking theblue teapot out of Mrs. Murphy's crippled hands after it had been filledwith boiling water. "What young lady did you say it was?" she askedpresently, her eyes on a tea leaf swirling round and round in her cup. 

"'Tis Miss Fern, the gintleman's cousin, and they do say they're to bemarried before spring. I'm not for sayin' she ain't pretty, Miss. She'sprettier than most and she's kind to the gintleman. Oh, you may be surebut she's got a different set of manners for him! And the day she hadtea here with little Miss Sen and the Professor, she was all graces, tobe sure. But another day she was here to meet him and little Miss Senbrought the message he could not come. It was a regular spitfire shewas that day, Miss, and no mistake. "

So that was why the Professor had wanted the blue paper weight. Perhapsthere was some reason in his delirium after all. 

"Have you seen her, Miss?" asked Mrs. Murphy. 

"Oh, yes, " answered Molly. "I think she is very pretty. May I look atyour garden, Mrs. Murphy? Dear little Otoyo, I can see her working outhere in the flowers. Don't you just love her, Mrs. Murphy?"

But the Irish woman had gone into the next room to get an old pair ofshears. 

"I'll take it as a favor, Miss Molly, if you'll cut two bunches, one foryourself and one for the Professor, God bless him and the Saintspreserve him for strength and happiness; though I ain't sayin' I wishhim to be preserved for Miss Alice Fern, pretty though she be. "

When Molly appeared at the hospital some half an hour later she made apicture the infirmary nurse would not soon forget. 

"These are for Professor Green from Mrs. Murphy, " Molly said, giving thenurse the largest half of the bunch. 

The nurse gave her a long quizzical look. She was new at Wellington andnot familiar with the girls. 

"Are you Miss Molly Brown?" she asked suddenly. 

"Why, yes, " answered Molly, surprised. 

"I thought so, " said the nurse, and departed before the astonished Mollycould say another word. 

CHAPTER IV

THE SENIOR RAMBLE. 

 "Ramblers, ramblers, Ramblers all are we: Life is gay, Life is free, Rambling all the day. 

 "When the sun sinks to his rest, Our rambling days are gone, Seniors, Seniors, Sound the call! Back to Wellington!"

"Did you put in the olives?" some one cried over the confusion ofsinging and talking. 

"Do be careful of the stuffed eggs. It would be a shame to ruin an hourand a half of hard work. "

"Tell the man to wait. I forgot my tea basket. "

"Haste thee, nymph, " called Edith Williams, after the fleeing Judy. "And bring your volume of Shelley along, there's a dear. I forgot mine. "

"Bring my sweater, " Nance called. 

Already the van load of girls in front was moving down the avenue, whilethe crowd in the second van waited impatiently for Judy's return. Thetwo big vehicles were decorated with lavender and primrose, the classcolors, for this was the day of the Senior Ramble, and the whole classwas off for the woods. 

At last Judy appeared, laden with many things--a tea basket, a book, hercamera and two sweaters; also a brass trumpet. 

"Who says I'm not good-natured?" she exclaimed, handing up the articlesand clambering into the vehicle. "I'm the kindest soul that ever lived. "

"I'm glad you feel that way about it, Juliana. It must be a sweetpersonal satisfaction, " remarked Edith, seizing the book and thrustingit into the pocket of her ulster. 

The seniors were to ramble in Fern Woods that year, so-called notbecause of the superabundance of ferns, but because they were a part ofthe estate of Major Fern, father of Alice Fern. The Major had noobjections to the students of Wellington and Exmoor using his woods forpicnics, but the Exmoor boys were not given to such excursions and itwas a long drive from Wellington, six miles over a rough road. However, Fern Woods it was to be this time, and away went the two vans, Judyblowing her trumpet with a grand flourish as they passed out of theWellington grounds. 

The Ramble was always the occasion for the most childish behavior amongthe seniors; a last frenzied outburst, as it were, before putting awaychildish things for all time and settling down to the serious work oflife. 

And now the seniors in the first wagon stood up and began singing backto the girls in the second wagon:

 "Seniors, do you hear the call? Great Pan has blest the day. Heed the summons, one and all, _Voulez vous danser?_"

The seniors behind answered:

 "We will make the welkin ring, _Voulez vous danser?_ Sound the trumpet, shout and sing, _Voulez vous danser?_"

"I think this should be called the 'Senior Rumble, ' and not ramble, "some one said, as the wagon groaned and creaked on the hilly road. 

"What's the matter with 'Grumble'?" asked Mabel Hinton. 

But there was no real grumbling, although the six miles that lay betweenFern Woods and Wellington included some rough roads. They were joltedand shaken and tumbled about and there were shrieks of laughter andcries of "Wait, wait! I'd rather walk!" But the stolid driver wentcalmly on without taking the slightest notice. 

"One would think we were a lot of inmates in a crazy wagon, " criedMolly, wiping the tears of laughter from her eyes. 

A box of salted nuts had come open and the contents were scattered allover the bed of the wagon, and some apples had tumbled out of a hamperand were rolling about under people's feet. 

"If I had known--if I had only known that this was going to be the rockyroad to Dublin, wild horses couldn't have dragged me, " cried Jessie. 

At last after a time of infinite confusion the wagons drew up at theedge of a forest and there was sudden quiet in the noisy company. It wasas if they stood at the threshold of a great cathedral, so still andmajestic were the woods. Through the dense greenness of the pines therewas an occasional flash of a silver birch. The scarlets and yellows ofoak and maple trees gleamed here and there, making a rich background forthe somber company of pines. 

"It was worth it! It was worth it, " exclaimed the seniors, now that theworst was over. 

The class had divided itself into three "messes" for lunch. After lunchit was to assemble in a body, sing the class songs to be bequeathed tothe juniors, and do the class stunts which were familiar enough to allof them now. And first of all, by the unwritten law of custom, theseniors were to spend an hour communing with nature. This constitutedthe "Ramble. " Judy had been delegated by the Ramble Committee to blow ablast on her trumpet when the time came to eat. In the meantime thedrivers had taken themselves and their wagons down the road two miles toa small village where they were to rest and refresh themselves with fooduntil half past four o'clock, when they were to return for the ramblingseniors. 

So it was that the three hampers of food were deposited in a safe andsecluded spot under some bushes and left unguarded while everybody wentoff for the ramble. 

Of course all this had been planned weeks ahead of time by the committeeand the destination kept a profound secret, according to the traditionsof the school. 

Scarcely had the last unsuspecting senior disappeared in the pine woods, when a motor car rounded the curve in the road and stopped at the signalof an individual in a long dark ulster and a slouch hat well down overthe face, who had leaped out from behind a clump of bushes on the otherside of the road. Two other persons similarly disguised now jumped outof the car, leaving the chauffeur quietly examining the speedometer andseeing nothing. 

"Do you know where they put them?" whispered one. 

The other did not reply, but led the way at a run to the clump of busheswhere the hampers had been left. In five minutes the three thieves, forsuch they certainly were, had stored the hampers on the floor of thecar. Then they jumped in themselves. 

"Go ahead!" cried the thief on the front seat, and presently the motorcar was a mere speck in the distance. 

In the meantime, the unconscious seniors rambled happily on. There wereplaces to visit in the woods: a beautiful spring that bubbled out of theside of a rock and broadened into a basin below; an old log cabin, longsince deserted and open to the weather, and last of all, "Charlie'sOak. " Half a century ago, an Exmoor boy had hanged himself on this tree. Another Exmoor boy, many years later, had carved a cross on the tree andby that sign and others learned from Exmoor boys, they finally found thegruesome spot. 

"Why did he do it?" asked Judy. 

"It was never told, " answered Nance, who had learned all there was toknow concerning the tragedy from Andy McLean. 

"Poor boy, " cried Molly, seeing in her mind a picture of the bodydangling from a lower limb of the old oak. "Let's make him a garland ofleaves, " she proposed, "just to signify that we are sorry for him. "

The whole class now assembled at Charlie's Oak and proceeded to gatherbranches of autumn leaves. With the aid of a handkerchief and a ribbon, these were arranged in the semblance of a large wreath. On the fly leaf, torn from the volume of Shelley, Judy wrote:

"In memory of poor Charlie. May his soul rest in peace. Class of 19--, Wellington. "

The wreath was laid against the tree and the inscription secured with apin stuck into the bark. Then the Class of 19--Wellington went on itsway rejoicing, never dreaming of the reward the wreath of autumn leaveswas to bring them. Perhaps the restless spirit of poor Charlie feltgrateful for the sympathy and whispered into the ear of somebody--at anyrate, luck came of the incident of the wreath. 

Not long after this, seniors roaming about the woods heard the blast ofJudy's trumpet. It was still too early for lunch and they feltinstinctively that it was a call to arms. Presently wandering classmatescame running up from every direction like a company of frightenednymphs. 

Just about this time an old gentleman, strolling down the wood path, paused at Charlie's Oak. He was a very youthful looking old man, hischeeks as ruddy as winter apples and his blue eyes as clear and brightas a boy's. He carried a cane which he used to toss twigs from his path. Two Irish setters followed at his heels sniffing the ground trodden downa little while before by the feet of numerous Wellington maids. 

"Ahem! What's this?" remarked the old gentleman aloud, fitting hisglasses on his nose and leaning over to examine the wreath. Then hereleased the inscription from the pin and carefully read it twice, replacing it afterward just over the wreath. Baring his head, he stoodquite still under the limb for so long a time that the impatient dogstrotted off down the path, and then came back again to look for theirmaster. 

"Poor Charlie, " repeated the old man. "May his soul rest in peace. " Witha sigh he put on his hat and started slowly down the path. "PoorCharlie, poor old Charlie, " he was still saying, when he found himselfon the edge of a company of very indignant and excited young women. 

"This must be the Class of 19--Wellington, " he was thinking as he turnedto go the other way, when Margaret Wakefield in the very center of thecrowd thundered out:

"It's an outrage! A miserable, cowardly trick!"

Some of the girls were actually crying; others looked grave, while stillothers conferred together in low indignant tones. 

"I beg pardon, young ladies, has anything serious happened?" asked theold gentleman, lifting his hat politely. 

There was a complete silence at this unexpected interruption, and thenMargaret, ever the spokesman of her class, replied in a suspiciouslytearful tone of voice:

"We've been robbed, sir. Somebody has stolen our luncheon. "

"Dear, dear!" murmured the old gentleman, looking from one face toanother with real sympathy, "dear, dear! but that was an unkindtrick--and quite a large meal, too, I imagine, " he added, noting thesize of the company. 

"Three hampers full, " cried one girl. 

"And we had worked so hard over it, " cried another. 

"Is this the Class of 19--Wellington?" asked the old gentleman. 

"Yes, sir. We were giving the Senior Ramble. "

"And while you were rambling thieves came and robbed you, eh?"

"We are disgraced, " ejaculated Margaret. 

"Do you suppose tramps could have done it?" Jessie asked. 

"It would have been difficult to dispose of three hampers full, "answered the old gentleman. "A tramp would have helped himself to whathe could carry and nothing more. "

"Could it have been Gypsies?" suggested Judy, fired with the romanticnotion. 

The old gentleman shook his head. 

"I think the thieves rode in a motor car, " he said. "As I crossed theroad some little time ago I saw one waiting there for no apparentreason. I hardly noticed who was in it. Perhaps it was some of your ownclassmates. In my day the boys used to play tricks like that, worseones, even. Exmoor was a lively place fifty years ago. "

The old gentleman sighed. 

"Wellington girls play tricks, too, sometimes, but not such mean ones, "put in Margaret. "Once a girl cut the electric light wiring during anentertainment in the gym. But even that wasn't so low as this: making acrowd of people go hungry. "

"Ah, I see, " answered the old gentleman. "Well, that is scarcely to bementioned in the same breath with cutting wires. " He paused a moment anddug into the ground with the end of his cane thoughtfully. "Youngladies, " he said presently, "would you do an old Exmoor boy the honor oflunching with him to-day?"

"Oh, how kind!"

"So many of us?"

"It's too much, " a dozen voices answered. 

"Not at all. There could not be too many of you. I am Major Fern. I livedown the road a bit. You can find the house by the big iron gatesopening onto the avenue. " Major Fern looked at his watch. "It's now alittle past twelve. May I expect you at a quarter past one? Mrs. Fernwill be delighted. There are--how many of you?"

Margaret told him promptly. 

"That's as small as an Exmoor class, " he observed. "An unusually smallclass. But--I've heard of you from Miss Walker--an unusually brightone, I understand. It will be a great pleasure to entertain so manycharming young ladies at once. "

The girls were almost speechless with surprise and gratitude. EvenMargaret was for once reduced to a state of shyness. 

"We are very grateful to you, Major Fern, " she said, after somehesitation, "and if you are sure it is not too much of an imposition, weaccept with pleasure. "

So it was that Charlie's Oak was the indirect means of bringing theSenior Ramble of that year to a successful termination. 

CHAPTER V. 

ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL. 

"Will somebody please inform me how they can get up a lunch for thiscrowd in an hour's time?" asked Nance, who, having spent her life in thenarrow quarters of a boarding house, was not accustomed to avalanches ofunexpected guests. 

"Oh, I don't think it will be very difficult, " Molly replied. "MajorFern is a farmer. He probably has lots of hams in the smoke house andplenty of eggs in the hen house and milk in the dairy and preserves andpickles in the pantry, and if there isn't enough bread the cook can makeup some hot biscuits or corn bread. "

"I know it couldn't embarrass you, Molly, dear. You'd be sure to findplenty of food for company, " laughed Nance. 

But Molly was not far wrong in her suppositions of the lunch that MajorFern unexpectedly called upon his wife and daughters and servants toprepare. Alice was the only member of his family who was not entirelycordial when the senior class of Wellington at last descended upon thebig old farmhouse at lunch time. She had buttered and sliced bread untilher back ached, and she cast many angry glances at her ruddy-facedfather tranquilly slicing ham in the pantry. 

"There are times when Papa is a real nuisance, " she thought angrily. 

While Mrs. Fern pointed out piles of plates on the pantry shelf to amaid, her husband told her the history of the morning. 

"So you see, my dear, " he finished, "that this party is really Charlie'sparty. We are doing it for his sake. It would be just the sort of thinghe would have done himself. I remember he brought his entire class homeonce to Sunday morning breakfast. He had invited them and forgotten tomention it to Mother. "

"And they made a wreath for him?" asked Mrs. Fern irrelevantly, as shewiped a tear from her eye. 

The Major blinked and went on slicing ham industriously. 

"It's as fresh in my mind as if it had happened yesterday, " he saidpresently in a low voice. 

"How handsome and gay he was, " added his wife, sighing, as she countedout a pile of napkins. 

And now there came the sound of singing in front of the house. Theseniors had arrived and were serenading the Major and his family. "Wellington, my Wellington, " they sang, and Mrs. Fern paused in hercounting to listen to the song she herself had sung as a girl. 

"Listen to the children, they are serenading us, Major. Do come out withme and meet them. "

The Major laid down his carving knife and fork and followed his wife tothe front door, and presently the girls found themselves in thecomfortable, sunny parlor of the big old house that seemed to rambleoff at each side into wings and meander back into other additions in therear. They forgot their grievances in the fun of that lunch party. Bythe miracle which always provides for generosity to give, there wasplenty of lunch, just as Molly had predicted. 

"It wasn't a very difficult guess, " she observed to Nance. "If you hadlived in the country and were subject to unexpected arrivals, you'd knowjust how to go about getting up an impromptu meal for a lot of people. "

As for the good old Major, he was quite determined to enjoy himself. Hewanted to hear all the college jokes and songs. He even told some Exmoorjokes, and after each joke he laughed until his face turned anapoplectic red and the tears rolled down his cheeks. Mrs. Fern laughed, too. She was an old Wellington girl and her eldest daughter, Natalie, had graduated from the college a year before Molly had entered. It hadbeen a great disappointment to Mrs. Fern that Alice, the youngestdaughter, was not inclined to college and had gone to a fashionableboarding school. 

After the senior stunts, when Judy had succeeded in throwing the Majorinto another apoplectic fit of laughing by playing "Birdie's Dead" onthe piano, it was time to go back to Fern Woods where they were to meetthe wagons. While the girls were pinning on their hats the Major, in avoice husky from much laughing, asked Nance, as it happened to be, whichgirl had suggested the wreath he had seen at the foot of the oak tree. Nance pointed out Molly and the Major presently beckoned her to followhim into his library. Unlocking one of the desk drawers, he drew out afaded photograph. The picture showed a laughing, handsome boy not morethan eighteen. His curly hair was ruffled all over his head as if he hadjust come in out of the wind, and his merry eyes looked straight intoMolly's. 

"That is Charlie, " said the Major, looking over Molly's shoulder at thepicture. "My younger brother, Charlie. His death was the greatest sorrowI have ever known. Poor Charlie! Poor boy!"

The old man turned away to hide the tears in his eyes and Molly laid thephotograph back in the drawer. 

"Charlie would have enjoyed all this even more than I have, " went on theMajor. "It would have been just what he would have done under thecircumstances. I saw the wreath, you see, and it touched me verydeeply. "

"The girls will appreciate your kindness all the more when I tell them, "said Molly, not knowing how else to express the sympathy she felt. 

"Ah, well, it all happened half a century ago, " he said, shaking herhand and patting it gently at the same time. 

"He is a dear, " thought Molly, following him into the hall. 

She saw one other photograph in the Fern house that interested her. Itwas a picture of Professor Edwin Green, very elaborately framed, standing on a dressing table in one of the bedrooms. 

Alice Fern kept well in the background while her mother and father andelder sister entertained the senior class of Wellington. She had doneher duty by the lunch and she was not going to mingle in this crowd ofunknowns. 

"I never could bear a college romp, " she had said to her mother who hadremonstrated with her daughter. 

"I trust you don't call your mother a college romp, " answered the oldlady indignantly. 

"Not at all, Mama. You belonged to the early days of Wellington beforeromps came into existence, " Alice replied sharply. 

"I'm sure you may have to see a great deal of college, if----" beganMrs. Fern, and broke off abruptly. 

Alice shrugged her shoulders. 

"If--if----" she thought. "How I detest that word. "

On the way back that afternoon the old Queen's girls held a council ofwar. 

"I think we ought to make it our business to find out who played thistrick on us, " cried Margaret, "if it takes detective work to do it. Ourdignity as seniors has been attacked and the standards of Wellingtonlowered. "

"I don't believe any juniors had a hand in it, " put in Judy, "because weare so friendly with them. "

Nance nudged Molly. 

"She's afraid somebody's going to blame that charming Adele, " shewhispered. 

"If it's any of the Wellington girls, it's more likely to be among thesophomores, " announced Edith decisively. "They were rather a wild lotlast year but we were too busy to notice them; a good deal like a gangof bad boys in their own set; always playing practical jokes----"

"Yes, but would they dare play jokes on us?" interrupted Margaret. 

"They'd dare do anything, " answered Edith. "Anne White is theringleader. I only know her by sight so I can't judge of her character, but I heard that Miss Walker had her on the grill several times lastwinter. "

"What does she look like?" some one asked. 

"Why, she's as demure as anything; a petite, brown-haired, inconspicuouslittle person. You'd never suspect her of being so daring, but I happento know of one reckless performance of hers that Prexy hasn't heard of. "

"Do tell, " they demanded with breathless curiosity. 

"You'll let it go no farther? Word of honor, now?"

"Word of honor, " they repeated in a chorus. 

"One night last spring she let herself down from the dormitory with arope ladder and went--well, I don't know where she went, but she gotback safely enough----"

"Up the ladder?"

"No. That was the wonderful part. She simply waited till morning andwhen the gates were open slipped in in time for chapel. "

The girls were rather horrified at this story. 

"It's shocking, " the chorus exclaimed. 

"It does sound so, " went on Edith impressively, "if I didn't happen toknow that she spent the night with good old Mrs. Murphy, who told it tome herself one day in a burst of tea-cup confidence, and I never let itout to any one but Katherine until to-day. But it does seem the momentfor telling it, if she did play that dastardly trick----"

"But we aren't sure it was Anne White, " put in Molly. 

"No, but it's her style. She sent a girl a live mouse through the mailand she broke up one of the sophomore class meetings by puttingticktacks on the window. "

"How silly, " ejaculated Mabel Hinton. 

"But what was she doing down on the campus and what did Mrs. Murphythink of being waked up at midnight?" asked Judy. 

"It wasn't midnight. It was only a little before eleven and Anne toldMrs. Murphy she had done it for a lark. She was awfully frightened andMrs. Murphy began by being shocked and ended by being kind-hearted. Theladder had slipped down and she couldn't get up and she didn't know whatto do. "

So it happened, that without meaning to be unjust, the seniors secretlyblamed Anne White for the pillaging of their lunch hampers. But therewas no evidence and they could only wait and be watchful, as Margaretexpressed it. 

CHAPTER VI. 

THE RETORT COURTEOUS. 

Because of the happy ending of the Ramble the seniors made no secret ofthe theft of the lunch hampers. If they had been obliged to go hungry, they would probably have kept the entire story to themselves. Such ishuman nature. When the story reached Miss Walker's ears, as most thingsabout Wellington did sooner or later, she sent for Margaret Wakefieldand got the history of the case from her in an exceedingly dramatic andwell connected form. 

"And we had gone to no end of trouble, Miss Walker, and a good deal ofexpense, " Margaret finished. "Lots of us had had cakes and pickles andthings sent on from home. "

Miss Walker smiled. She could have named the contents of those hamperswithout any outside assistance. 

"What none of us understands is where they took the hampers afterward. They couldn't have brought them back to college without being foundout. "

"No, " answered the Principal, "that would have been impossible, ofcourse, and yet the hampers have managed to find their way back. "Shifting her chair from the table desk, she pointed underneath. "So, yousee, " she continued, "that the sandwiches and pickles and stuffed eggsand fudge may have found their way into college after all. Major Ferndiscovered the hampers. They had been tossed into a ditch near hisplace. " Miss Walker sighed and frowned. "If the Exmoor boys were givento this kind of thing, I might have suspected some of them. But thestandards at Exmoor are above such things as this, " she indicated thehampers with a gesture of mingled disgust and pain. "If only--only Icould bring my Wellington to that point. But every year there issomething. "

Margaret felt sorry for the Principal who had striven so hard for thehonor of Wellington in the face of so many discouragements. 

"It was a thoroughly silly and undignified act, " she remarked later tothe Queen's crowd, telling them of the interview, "to break up atime-honored custom like the Senior Ramble by stealing all the food; andI'm sorry for the girl who did it if she ever gets caught. "

An effort had been made to find out if there had been any sophomorespreads the night of the Ramble with the stolen banquet, but these youngwomen were either very wily or very innocent, for nothing was foundagainst them. 

In the meantime, things went on happily enough at Wellington and therewere no more escapades to wrinkle the President's brow or enrage thegirls who happened to be the victims. Molly's life was so filled withwork and interests that she had little leisure for reflection, andabout this time there came to her an unsolicited and entirely unexpectedhonor. She was elected sub-editor of the Wellington _Commune_, thefortnightly review of college news and college writings. Edith Williams, beyond a doubt the most literary girl in college, was editor-in-chief, Caroline Brinton was business manager, and there was besides a staff ofsix girls from other classes who gathered news and ran their variousdepartments. 

"I can't imagine why they chose me, " Molly exclaimed one afternoon toEdith, when the two girls were closeted in the _Commune_ office. 

"For your literary discrimination, " answered Edith. 

"But I think my themes are dreadfully crude and forced. I can't helpfeeling self-conscious when I write. "

"That's because you try too hard, " answered Edith, who always spoke thebrutal truth regarding the literary efforts of her friends. "Let yourthoughts flow easily, lightly, " she added, making a flowing gesture withher pencil to illustrate the gentle trickling of ideas from anovercharged brain. 

Molly laughed. 

"You remind me of Professor Green. 'Be simple, ' was his advice--as if anamateur can be simple. "

Edith, in the act of writing an editorial, smiled enigmatically. 

"It's about as hard as getting a cheap dressmaker to make simpleclothes, " she said. "Amateurs always want to put in ruffles andpuffles. "

The two girls were seated at the editorial desk. There was a pile ofmanuscript in front of Molly: themes recommended by Miss Pomeroy forpublication and contributed book reviews. Presently only the ticking ofthe clock on the book shelves broke the stillness. Both girls hadplunged into work with a will. Edith's soft pencil was already flyingover the sheets. 

"Flowing easily and lightly, " Molly thought, smiling as she turned apage. 

For more than half an hour they worked in silence. At last Molly, havingselected from the reviews the ones she considered best for publication, leaned her chin on her hand and closed her eyes. How peaceful it was inthis little office, and how nice to be with Edith who went at herwork--this kind of work--with force and swiftness. 

Rap, rap, rap, came the sound of knuckles on the door, while some oneshook the knob and the voice of Judy called:

"Let me in, let me in, girls, I've got something to show you that willmake your blood boil. "

"Run away, we're awfully busy, " answered Edith, who kept the door to theprivate office locked. 

"I tell you it will make your blood boil with rage and fury, " went onthe extravagant Judy. "As editors of the _Commune_, everybody calls onyou to resent an insult to college. Please let me in, " she pleaded. 

Molly opened the door and her impetuous friend rushed in, waving anewspaper. 

"Be calm, child. Don't take on so. Sit down and tell us easily andlightly and flowingly what's the matter, " she said. 

"Look at this base, libelous article, " Judy ejaculated, spreading thepaper on the table. 

With an expression of amused toleration as of one who must bear thewhims of a spoiled child, Edith drew the paper in front of her whileMolly and Judy seated themselves on the arms of her chair and read overher shoulders. 

The first things that caught their eyes were the pictures: drawings ofwildly disheveled beings in gymnasium suits playing basket ball andhockey. One picture, also, represented a blousy looking young person ina sweater, carrying a bundle of linen under one arm and a bottle of milkunder the other. In still another this same blousy model was yelling"Hello" to her twin sister across the page. They saw her again in thedrug store dissipating in chocolate sundaes; and once more, chewing gum;hobnobbing with the grocery boy, too, or perhaps it was the baggage manor the postman. The article occupied a full page under flaringheadlines:

 "THE PRESENT DAY COLLEGE GIRL, NO LONGER A PLEASING FEMININE TYPE. SHE IS VULGAR, AGGRESSIVE, SLANGY. COLLEGES FOR GIRLS THE RUIN OF AMERICAN HOMES--So says Miss Beatrice Slammer, the popular writer and well-known anti-suffragist. "

"It's ironic, untrue and insulting, " observed Edith, in a choking voiceas her eyes traveled down the columns. 

"She seems especially hard on poor girls who have to get their ownmeals, " broke in Molly. "Is there anything unfeminine in getting abottle of milk from the corner grocery, I wonder? Or saying good-morningto the postman or Mr. Murphy? What would Miss Slammer think of us if sheknew how often we had tea with Mrs. Murphy and Mr. Murphy, too?"

"She recommends colleges for women to pattern themselves after a FifthAvenue school that teaches manners before it teaches classics, " burstout Judy. "I wonder if she went to that school?"

"She is evidently opposed to higher education for women, " remarkedEdith. "The style of her writing shows that as much as her sentimentsdo. "

"I know one thing, " cried Judy, "this settles it. I'm going to join theWoman's Suffrage Society to-day. If this is the way an anti thinks, I'mfor the other side. "

Edith and Molly laughed. 

"It's an excellent reason for changing your political views, Judy, " saidMolly. 

And now the office of the _Commune_ was besieged by numbers of studentsfrom the three upper classes. There were even one or two indignantfreshmen present. Those who had received the article by the first mailhad handed it to those who had not. Many of the girls had alreadywritten letters in reply and sent them to be published in New Yorkpapers. Would the editors of the _Commune_ do anything about the base, libelous article? Were these stinging falsehoods about college girls tobe allowed to be scattered over the country without a single protest?

"You may add my name to the Suffrage Club, Miss Wakefield, " called ajunior. 

"And mine. "

"And mine. "

So Margaret's list of converts swelled amazingly that afternoon. 

Edith was enjoying herself immensely. 

"What funny creatures girls are, " she said to Molly, still sitting onthe arm of the editorial chair. 

The question was: how was the article to be answered? No doubt collegegirls everywhere were thinking the same thing; therefore, the Wellingtongirls would not like to be backward in coming forward. 

"I suppose all the other colleges will be answering the article inabout the same way, " said Margaret. "I wish we could think of somethingoriginal and different. Something more personal than a letter to anewspaper. "

"She speaks on anti-suffrage, doesn't she?" asked Edith. 

"Oh, yes, " cried Margaret. "She is evidently one of those women whobelieves she can stem the tide of human progress by taking a standagainst higher education and universal suffrage. Do you think women likethat are ever silent? They are always standing on the street cornerstrying to lift their little puny voices above the multitude--but whohears them?"

There was a burst of laughter at Margaret's eloquence. 

"Why not ask her to speak here?" suggested Edith. 

"What good would that do?"

"Besides, she wouldn't come. "

"Oh, yes she would. Wait until all this blows over and then send herthe invitation. People who write like that always want to talk. "

"But how will we get any personal satisfaction out of it?" Margaretasked. 

"Well, by showing her what perfect ladies we are, in the first place. Wecan be very attentive and still 'freeze' her. We can entertain herwithout talking to her any more than is necessary, and we can listen toher speech and make no comments. "

After consideration of the suggestion, most of the girls began to see agood many possibilities in this courteous revenge. They were taken withthe notion of inviting Miss Slammer into the enemy's camp and treatingher as a guest too honored to be familiar with. It was agreed that theinvitation should be dispatched in about two weeks, so that Miss Slammerwould feel no suspicions. 

CHAPTER VII

A STOLEN VISIT. 

One morning not long after the stormy meeting in the _Commune_ room, Molly, racking her brain over "The Theory of Mathematics, " heard Otoyo'stap at the door. She knew it was the little Japanese. Nobody else couldknock so faintly and still so distinctly. 

"Come in, " she called, and Otoyo glided in as softly as a mouse. 

"You are much busy, Mees Brown?" she asked, retreating toward the doorwhen she saw Molly bending over her book. 

"Oh, I can spare a few moments for a dear little friend any day, "answered Molly. "What's happened? Nothing wrong, I hope?"

The Japanese girl appeared excited. Her eyes shone with more than theirusual luster and she seemed hardly able to keep back the news she had totell. 

"No, no, nothing wrong. Something very right. My honorable father iscoming to Wellington to see his humble little daughter. O, I am sohappee!" and Miss Sen executed a few steps of the "Boston, " she hadlately learned to dance. Molly watched the plump little figure glidingabout the room and smiled. What a dear, funny little person Otoyo was. 

"I am so glad. How joyful you must be. When is he coming, Otoyo?"

"He has arriving----" Otoyo broke off quickly. Excitement alwaysstrangely affected her English. "He has arrived now in New York and hewill come here to-morrow for the end-week. "

"Week-end, you mean, child. Now, what shall we do to amuse him besidesshowing him the sights? Wouldn't you like us to give him a dance or afudge party or something?"

Otoyo clasped her hands joyfully. 

"It will be enough for my honorable father to see all the beautifulyoung American ladees and the buildeengs. He will not require of hishumble daughter amusements. He is much grateful to young ladees forkindness to little Otoyo. My honorable father will be thankful to you. "

"Perhaps you would like us to go with you to the train to meet him?"Molly suggested, wondering why Otoyo still lingered, now that she hadunburdened herself of the good news and had seen plainly that Molly wasvery, very busy. But no, Otoyo thought so many young ladees at oncemight embarrass her honorable parent. She would prefer to bring him tocall at No. 5 Quadrangle on Sunday afternoon if entirely acceptable. 

It would be acceptable. They would all be delighted and the crowd wouldbe there to receive the honorable gentleman. And now, Molly was sureOtoyo would go. But Otoyo had something else on her mind, evidently. Molly sighed. Not for worlds would she hurt her small friend's feelings, but she did wish she had put a busy sign on the door. It had been such aperfect time to study, with Nance at a lecture and Judy practicingbasket ball. 

"Will Mees Brown do me one great beeg favor?" began Otoyo with someembarrassment. 

"Yes, indeed. Anything. "

It appeared that Otoyo was very anxious to call on Professor Green andshe wished Miss Brown to go with her. 

"You have seen the honorable Professor?" she asked innocently. 

"No, I have been to inquire every day, but Miss Fern told me he was notpermitted to see visitors. "

For the first time in their acquaintance Molly saw Otoyo show signs ofreal displeasure. 

"Mees Fern?" she repeated. "She cannot say no and yes. It is for thenurse to say. "

Molly admitted that she had not seen the nurse. 

"Then you will come?" cried Otoyo, with almost as much enthusiasm as shehad shown over the coming visit of her honorable father. 

"But----" began Molly. 

"You will so kindlee go this afternoon?" broke in the voluble littleJapanese. "Will four o'clock be an hour of convenience?"

"I really don't----" began Molly again. 

"You said 'anything, '" interrupted Otoyo. "You will not go back on poorlittle Japanese? You will come?" she finished, cocking her head on oneside in her own peculiarly irresistible manner. 

Molly glanced at the clock. She had already lost nearly twenty minutesof her precious study hour. 

"Very well, little one, come for me at four, " she said, and Otoyo fairlyflew from the room before Molly could change her mind. Out in thecorridor Miss Sen danced the Boston again, just a _pas seul_ to expressher happiness. Of course Mees Brown should never know that she had justthat moment come from seeing the great Professor. 

At four o'clock Otoyo again appeared at the door of No. 5. It waspouring down rain, but she had no intention of releasing Molly from herpromise. In her miniature rain coat and jaunty red felt hat, she lookedlike a plump little robin hopping into the room. 

"You are readee?" asked Otoyo. 

"Why, I never dreamed you would go in the rain!" began Molly, looking upfrom her writing. 

Otoyo's face lengthened and the corners of her mouth droopeddisconsolately. 

"Why, bless the child! Molly, aren't you ashamed to disappoint her?"cried Judy from the divan where she was resting after her athleticlabors. 

"Why, Otoyo, dear, I didn't know you were so keen about it. Of courseI'll go, " said Molly remorsefully, fumbling in the closet for herover-shoes, while Nance calmly appropriated Judy's rain coat from theback of a chair where that young woman had flung it and held it up forMolly to slip into. 

"Better take my umbrella, " she said. Molly had never owned a rain coatand couldn't keep an umbrella. 

"You know we may not be allowed to see him, " Molly observed, when thetwo girls had started on their wet walk down the avenue. "Miss Ferndistinctly told Judith Blount and me one day that he was not to see anyone except the family. The doctor particularly did not wish him to seestudents who would remind him of his work and worry him. "

"Mees Fern know too much, " said Otoyo, making what she called a "scareface" by wrinkling her nose and screwing up her mouth. "Mees Fern vereecrosslee sometimes. "

"Adverbs, adverbs, Otoyo, " admonished Molly. 

"Excusa-me, " said Otoyo. "It is when I become a little warm here in mybrain that I grow adverbial. "

Molly laughed. In her heart there was a secret, unacknowledged feelingof relief that she was going to try to see Professor Green in spite ofMiss Fern. It was a relief, too, to find herself in the outdoors afterher long vigil of study. The rain beat on her face and the fresh windnipped her cheeks until they glowed with color. 

"You are much too small and feeble to come out in all this weather, Otoyo, " she said, slipping her arm through her friend's. "You are sotiny you might easily fall into a puddle and drown. "

"Ah, thees is notheeng, " cried Otoyo. "In Japan it rains--oceans! Andfor so long. Days and days without refraining from. " She was very apt touse big words instead of smaller ones, her own language beingexceedingly formal and grandiose. "Notheeng is dry. Not even within theedifices. "

"Houses, Otoyo. "

"But a house is an edifice, is it not so?"

"Oh, yes, but we wouldn't use such a showy word. "

Otoyo was still puzzling out why the longer word was not the better whenthey reached the infirmary. The regular nurse of the infirmary whousually sat in the waiting room was not visible to-day. A freshman wasill and she was probably busy, Otoyo explained. 

"Who is looking after the Professor?" Molly asked. 

Miss Fern, it appeared, assisted by the infirmary nurse, attended hercousin during the day, and his sister nursed him at night. Havingimparted this information in a loud whisper, Otoyo started upstairs ontiptoe, Molly following. Somehow, she felt quite courageous and not atall afraid of Miss Fern, with the little Japanese to lead her on. 

All the doors were closed in the corridor above and on the ward roomdoor hung a sign, "No Admittance. "

"She must be quite ill, " whispered Molly. 

"She has a taking disease, " answered Otoyo. "Like this. " And she puffedout both jaws to the roundness of the full moon. 

Molly stifled a laugh. 

"Mumps, do you mean?"

Otoyo nodded. 

"It was so called to me by the honorable nurse, " she added gravely. 

The two girls lingered a moment in the hall. Molly was opposed torapping on the Professor's door, but Otoyo, amiably but unswervinglypersistent in attaining her ends, gently tapped on the door. 

"Come in, " called Professor Green's voice, weak almost beyondrecognition. 

Otoyo peeped into the room. 

"He is alone, " she whispered, and with that she pushed Molly through thedoor with arm of steel. "I will keep watch for ten minutes without. Then I will call. " She closed the door and Molly found herself lookingfearfully through the dim shadows cast by half-drawn green blinds, at anemaciated face on the pillow. Her pulses throbbed and she wanted verymuch to cry. Indeed, it required almost superhuman effort to keep backthe tears. Was this emaciated, wax-like face on the pillows herProfessor's?

"I'm afraid I ought not to be here, " she began in a low voice. 

"If you leave I shall cry, " said the Professor. "Won't you come nearer?"

Molly crept over to the bedside and stood looking down into the changedface. Only the brown eyes seemed the same. She choked and tried tosmile. One must be cheerful with sick people, and she hoped theProfessor would think it was the rain that had wet her cheeks. 

"Shake hands, Miss Molly, " said the Professor, lifting one transparenthand and then dropping it weakly. 

With an impulse she could hardly explain she knelt beside the bed andput her hand over his. 

"You are much better?" she whispered. 

"I'll soon be well, now, " he replied. "But I've been on a long journey. It seemed endless--so many mountains to climb and rivers to cross--suchimpenetrable forests----" he paused and shook his head. "I was beginningto get very tired and lonely, too--it's dismal taking the journeyalone--but I've come to the end now--it's over----" again he paused andsmiled. "I'm glad to find you at last. I've been looking for you a longtime. "

"I would have come sooner, but they--but she said no one was to seeyou. "

"The nurse?"

Molly shook her head. 

"My sister?"

"No, Miss Fern. "

"I never was so bossed in my life----" a sudden strength came into hisvoice. "These women!" he added in a tone of disgust. 

The door opened and Otoyo's voice was heard saying in a loud whisper. 

"The ten minutes have passed away. "

"Good-bye, " whispered Molly. 

"Will you come again?" he asked. 

She nodded and tiptoed hurriedly out of the room. She had caught aglimpse of the blue paper weight on the table during that stoleninterview. 

"No wonder Miss Alice Fern is so bossy with him, " she thought. "Isuppose she has a right to be. " Molly sighed. Somehow she wished she hadnot seen the blue paper weight. It had spoiled all the happiness in thevisit, except of course her happiness over his recovery. 

When the two girls reached the head of the stairs, the door to the wardopened and the nurse looked out. She exchanged a smiling nod with Otoyo. 

"Why, Miss Sen, you naughty little thing, I believe this visit was allarranged beforehand, " exclaimed Molly. 

But Miss Sen only laughed and not one word of excuse or explanationwould she give. 

"Otoyo, you are as deep as deep----" Molly began. 

But Otoyo pressing closely to her side, looked up into Molly's face andsmiled so sweetly it was impossible to scold her. 

"You are very kindlee to humble little Japanese girl, " she said. "Betterthan all the young ladies of Wellington, I like you best, Mees Brown. There is no one so good and so beautiful----"

"You outrageous little flatterer, you are changing the subject, " criedMolly. 

"With all my honor, I give you assurance that I speak trulee. "

"You make me very happee, then, " laughed Molly, "but what has that gotto do with Professor Green?"

"Did I say there was any connecting?" asked Otoyo innocently. 

And so Miss Sen, unfathomable and still guileless, never explained aboutthe stolen visit, and Molly Brown, baffled and still glad in her heart, had to think up any explanation she could. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

BARBED ARROWS. 

"I don't know which was the most highly polished, his manners or hisshiny bronze face, " ejaculated Judy when the door of No. 5 had closedupon Otoyo and her honorable father. 

The small grizzled Japanese gentleman had taken tea American fashionwith his daughter's Quadrangle friends. With punctilious enjoyment hehad eaten everything that was offered to him, cloudbursts, salmonsandwiches, stuffed olives and chocolate cake. The girls had heard thatraw carp was a favorite Japanese dish, and salmon being the only fishconvenient, they had bought several cans of it in the village in honorof the national taste. 

"Wasn't his English wonderful?" put in Margaret. "He said to me, 'Ientertain exceedingly hopes in my daughter's educationally efforts. '"

"He asked me if I were quadrangular, " laughed Edith. "I said no, quadrilateral. "

"The funny part of it was that he used all those big words and spokewith such a perfect accent and yet he didn't understand anything wesaid, " observed Molly. "All the time I was telling him how much we lovedOtoyo and what a dear clever child she was, he blinked and smiled andsaid: 'Indeed. Is it truly? Exceedingly interestingly. '"

While they were laughing and discussing Otoyo's father, Adele Windsor, Judy's new bosom friend, walked into the room. She had formed a habit ofentering their room without announcing herself, an unpardonable breachof etiquette at Wellington, as well it might be anywhere. Lately she hadmade herself very much at home at No. 5, lounging on the divan with anovel between lectures, or occupying the most comfortable chair whileshe jotted down notes on a tablet. Nance called her "the intruder" toMolly, and once she had even ventured to remark to Judy:

"I should think your friend would know that it's customary to knock on adoor before opening it. "

"It's because she's never had any privacy, " explained Judyapologetically. "She was brought up in a New York flat and slept on aparlor sofa all her life until two years ago when her father begansuddenly to make money. "

"Being brought up in a parlor ought to give her parlor manners, " Nancethought, but she had not voiced her thought to the sensitive Judy, whoreally had not intended to force Adele Windsor on her chums. It was onlythat Adele had a way of taking for granted she was _persona grata_, thatNance thought was rather too free. 

Molly, always polite to guests whether welcome or not, greeted Adelecordially and made her a cup of tea. 

"We were just discussing Otoyo Sen's funny little father, " sheexplained, in order to draw Adele into the conversation. "He's been hereto call--the queerest English!" And Molly repeated some of Mr. Sen'sabsurd speeches. 

Adele listened with interest. She was always interested in everything, one might almost say inquisitive, and she had a peculiar way of makingpeople say things they regretted. Judy, artless soul, had told hereverything she knew long ago. And now, turning her intelligent dark eyesfrom one to another and occasionally putting out a pointed question, Adele succeeded in starting a new discussion on Otoyo's father. With themost innocent intentions in the world, they imitated his voice andmanner, his stiff formal bows and his funny squeaky laugh. 

It was not until later when the friends had scattered to tidy up forsupper that Molly felt any misgivings about having made fun of Otoyo'sfather, and these she kept to herself, feeling, indeed, that they wereunworthy of her. Adele had not left with the others. She was to remainfor supper with Judy, and the two girls sat chatting together whileMolly took a cat-nap and Nance began clearing away the tea things. 

"You shall not help, " she had insisted, when Molly had offered to do hershare. "You are dead tired and I'm not, so go and rest and don'tbother. "

Nance's manner was often brusquest when she was tenderest, but Mollyunderstood her perfectly. She _was_ very tired. What with her new dutieson the _Commune_, club meetings and the pressure of studies, the worldwas turning so fast she felt that she might fly off into space at anymoment. 

"Professor Green would have scolded me for trying to overdo things, " shewas thinking, half sadly. Gradually her body relaxed and her eyelidsdropped. Through the mists of half consciousness she heard the musicalrattle of the tea things, and presently there came the catchy, rathernasal tones of Adele's voice over the clatter of china and silver. 

"I like all your friends, Judy. They are remarkably bright. "

"Aren't they a sparkling little coterie, " answered Judy proudly. 

"Now, Miss Wakefield is a born leader. Of course a leader must have thegift of gab. She's a great talker, isn't she? Takes the conversationright into her own hands and keeps it there, doesn't she?"

"Margaret does talk a lot, " Judy admitted. 

"Too much perhaps for any one not deeply interested, but then of courseI always am. Now, Edith Williams is the brighter of the two, but sheknows it, don't you think so?"

"Well, I suppose she does, " replied Judy reluctantly. 

"Katherine has more surface brightness, but of course she's superficial, that is, compared with her sister. "

"Edith is the brightest, " said Judy. 

"Mabel Hinton is all right, but she does dress so atrociously. And thoseglasses! Can you imagine how she can wear them?"

Molly felt suddenly hot. She flung the comfort off and sat upimpatiently. 

"I should think Judy would have sense enough to see she's being made todiscuss every friend she has, " she thought. 

"The Intruder" had now commenced on pretty Jessie Lynch. "Awfully jollyto have so many beaux. Most men-crazy girls have none, " she was saying, when Molly marched into the room. She had not decided what she was goingto say, but she intended to say something. 

"How red your face is, Molly, dear, " observed Judy carelessly. 

"And how fortunate that it's so seldom that way, " went on theimperturbable Miss Windsor. "Red faces are not becoming to red heads, that is, generally speaking, but your skin is such an exquisitetexture, Miss Brown, that it doesn't matter whether it's red or white. Did you see where a girl had written to a beauty editor and asked for acure for blushing? The editor told her that age was the only cure. Sometimes, however, one gets very good suggestions off those pages, goodhygienic suggestions, I mean. "

And so Adele carried the conversation along at such a swift pace thatMolly did not have the chance to say what she had intended. She hadalways regarded that kind of talk with supreme contempt: praise thattapered into a sting. "It would have been more honest to have given thesting without the praise, " she thought, "and less hypocritical andcensorious. "

It was Adele's trick to make you agree with her, and if you did, leadyou on to further and more dangerous ground, until you suddenly feltyourself placed in the awkward position of saying something unkindwithout having intended it. 

It was strange that Judy was so blind to this trait of Adele's. Butthen Adele was very attractive. There was a kind of abandon about herthat suited Judy's style. They had a great many tastes in common. Adelewas very talented and the two girls often went off on Saturday afternoonsketching expeditions together. 

"Nance, I'm ashamed of myself for thinking such things, " whisperedMolly, on the way down to supper, "but there is something almostMephistophelean about Adele Windsor. "

"She-devil, you mean, " broke in Nance bluntly. 

Molly laughed. 

"Mephistophelean was more high sounding. Besides she's just likeMephistopheles in 'Faust. ' She doesn't speak right out, only whispersand suggests. Innuendo is the word, isn't it? Sometimes I'm reallyfrightened for Judy. "

"She is awfully crushed, but she'll wake up soon enough. She alwaysdoes, " answered Nance carelessly. 

But Molly had secret misgivings, in spite of Nance's assurances, andfurthermore, she was convinced that the crafty Adele was well aware ofthese misgivings and that it gave her much private enjoyment to makeMolly uncomfortable. 

"The trouble is I can't fight her with her own weapons, " Molly thought. "I'm not clever enough, and besides I wouldn't if I could. After all, boys' methods of settling disputes by drawing a circle and fighting itout are somehow much more honest. It would be worth a black eye and abloody nose to lay forever all that innuendo and sly insinuation. "

"She's hypnotized Judy into putting her up for the Shakespeareans andthe Olla Podridas, " said Nance. "And she'll get in. Nobody will dream ofblackballing her, you'll see. "

Molly compressed her lips into a firm red line and said nothing, but shewas almost led to wish that school societies did not exist at all. 

CHAPTER IX. 

THE SUBSTITUTE. 

Miss Walker had not failed to see the stinging article against women'scolleges written by Miss Beatrice Slammer for a newspaper, and when sherecalled that Miss Slammer had recently spent a day at Wellington as aguest of the college under plea of gathering material, she felt somewhatembittered. When, therefore, it came to her ears that the studentsintended to ask Miss Slammer to Wellington ostensibly for the purpose ofhearing her views on anti-suffrage, she smiled and said nothing toanybody except Miss Pomeroy, who had raised some objections. 

"Don't worry over it, my dear, " said Miss Walker, "they won't doanything to make us ashamed. It's Miss Slammer who will be ashamed, Irather imagine. "

Perhaps Miss Slammer was surprised at receiving an invitation fromWellington University after her lampoon of college girls. Whateverqualms she may have felt in writing it had been hushed to sleep with theinsidious thought that the views, if not true, were at least sensationalenough to catch the public eye; and this was more important to MissSlammer than anything else. It flattered her to be asked to speak atthis small but distinguished college. Of course they had never seen thearticle or they would never have sent the invitation. Miss Slammer hadher doubts as to whether any person outside New York ever read anewspaper, especially a lot of college girls who had no interests beyondamateur plays and basket ball. So she promptly dispatched a polite noteof acceptance to "Miss Julia Kean. " Then at the last moment, only a fewhours before train time, her courage failed her. 

"I can't do it, " she said. "I simply haven't the nerve. "

"Do what?" asked Jimmy Lufton, glancing up from his typewriter to thesomewhat battered and worn countenance of Miss Slammer. 

"Face a lot of women and talk to them about anti-suffrage. "

Jimmy grinned. He had the face of a mischievous schoolboy. In his eyesthere lurked two little imps of adventure while his broad and sunnysmile was completely disarming. "Sunny Jim" was the name given him byhis friends in the office, a name that still clung to him after fivetempestuous years of newspaper work. 

"Would you like a substitute?" he asked. "I think I could give somepretty convincing arguments. "

"What do you know about it?" demanded Miss Slammer doubtfully. 

"Did you read the article that came out last Sunday--'Anti's to thefront, by a Wife and Mother. ' That was me. I thought I gave a prettyfair line of argument. "

"Jimmie, you are the limit, " exclaimed Miss Slammer. Then she paused andbegan to think quickly. Suppose Jimmy did go up to Wellington with aletter of introduction from her, and take her place? Well, why not? Shewas too ill to come, and had sent the well-known young writer on thisvital subject. She would be keeping her engagement in a way, and Jimmywould be getting a holiday and perhaps material for another story at thesame time. The editor's consent was gained. "See if you can't getsomething about basket ball, " he had ordered, and Jimmy dashed out ofthe office, the railroad ticket contributed by Wellington in one pocketand Miss Slammer's note in the other. 

Miss Slammer's nature was a casual one. Life had been so hard with herthat she had long since grown callous under the blows of fate and grimlyindifferent to other people's feelings. Somewhere she had heard thatJimmy Lufton was a born orator. At any rate, she thought he could carryoff the adventure and her conscience was easy. 

At eight o'clock the next morning when the night train from New Yorkpulled into Wellington station, a crowd of well-dressed young women onthe platform gazed at the door of the Pullman car with expectant eyes. Judy Kean in a black velvet suit and a big picture hat headed thedelegation. Only two passengers descended from the sleeper: amiddle-aged, worn-looking woman in shabby black and a young man whosealert brown eyes took in at once the crowd of college girls and Judy, resplendent in velvet and plumes. 

"Miss Slammer?" began Judy, intercepting the woman passenger who waslooking up and down the platform, somewhat bewildered. 

"No, no, that is not my name. I am looking for Miss Windsor, " answeredthe woman nervously. 

"Oh, " said Judy, rather surprised. "You will find her at her rooms inthe Beta Phi House. Take the 'bus up. It's quite a walk. "

The woman bowed and hurried over to the 'bus just as the young man withthe alert brown eyes came up, hat in hand. Judy noticed at once that hishead was large and rather distinguished in outline and that hisclose-cropped black hair had a tendency to curl. 

"You were looking for Miss Slammer?" he asked, speaking to Judy, whoseface, as the train receded, showed mingled feelings of disappointmentand anger. 

"Oh, yes, " she replied, startled somewhat at being addressed by astrange young man. 

"She couldn't come, and I came down as a substitute, " he went on, handing her the note hastily dashed off by the intrepid Beatrice. 

Judy's eyes only half took in the words of the note. She read itsilently and passed it on to the rest of the delegation. 

"A man!" she thought. "Now, isn't that too much? Everything is ruined. We can't teach Miss Slammer a lesson in politeness through a proxy. "

"I hope it's all right, " Jimmy began, watching Judy's face withundisguised admiration. 

"Oh, yes, " she answered hastily. "We are very glad to see you, Mr. Slammer----"

Jimmy broke into his inimitable laugh. 

"My name is Lufton, " he said, and the mistake seemed so funny that Judylaughed, too, and everybody felt more at ease immediately. 

"We were to have had you up to breakfast--I mean Miss Slammer, " Judystammered. 

"I'll get something--er somewhere, " said Jimmy in a reassuring tone. 

"There's an inn in Wellington village, " suggested one of the girls. 

"Miss Slammer was scheduled to speak at three o'clock this afternoon, "began Judy. 

"And am I banished to the village all that time?" Jimmy broke in. "Youdon't bar men from the grounds, do you? I'd like to look around theplace a little. "

"No, indeed. This isn't a convent. If you will come up to the Quadrangleafter breakfast, we'll be delighted to show you the buildings and thecloisters--whatever would interest you. "

"Thanks, awfully, " said Jimmy, and presently they watched him stroll offup the road to the village, whistling as gaily as a schoolboy. 

There were scores of faces at the windows of the Quadrangle when thespecial 'bus drew up at the archway. 

"She didn't come, " Judy called to a group of girls lingering in thetower room. "A man came. "

"Young or old?" cried half a dozen voices. 

"Young and passing fair, " said Jessie. 

"Passing dark, you mean. He had black hair. "

"But where is old Miss Slammer?" demanded Edith Williams. 

"Old Miss Slammer was afraid to face the music, I suppose. Anyway, shesent Mr. James Lufton down to take her place and he is at presentbreakfasting in the village. "

"Somehow, all the sweetness has gone out of revenge!" exclaimed Edith. "I foresee that nobody will be willing to practice the 'freeze-out' onan innocent man, passing fair, if he is a substitute. "

"Well, he's coming up this morning to be shown around college. If anyone wants to take the job of showing him, I'm willing to resign myplace. Anybody who is willing to do the 'freeze-out' act, I mean. Idon't think it will be easy. He has a way of laughing that makes otherpeople laugh. You couldn't be mean to him if you tried. "

Already, Judy had unconsciously set herself the task of protecting Mr. James Lufton from the fate planned for Miss Slammer. 

"Aren't we to listen in cold silence when he makes his speech?" asked agirl. 

"Of course, " put in Margaret, "you couldn't listen in any other way to aspeech against suffrage. I shan't applaud him, I know. If he representsMiss Slammer, like as not he shares her views about college girls, too, and is just as deserving as she is to a polite 'freeze-out. '"

"It was a mad scheme from the first, " put in Katherine Williams. "Inever did approve of it. I don't imagine such a subtle revenge wouldhave had the slightest effect on Miss Slammer. "

"We intend to have our revenge, " cried a dozen voices, followers ofMargaret. 

In the midst of the hot argument that followed this statement, Judyhurried off to Beta Phi House to eat her share of the fine breakfastsome of the girls there had undertaken to give to the enemy of women'scolleges. She felt that things looked pretty black for Mr. James Lufton. Running upstairs to Adele Windsor's rooms, she knocked on the doorimpatiently. It was quite two minutes before it was cautiously openedby Adele, whose face looked flushed and there were two white dents atthe corners of her mouth. 

"I heard she didn't come, " Adele began, without waiting for Judy tospeak. "Let's go down to breakfast. We're late as it is. " She closed thedoor with a slam and pushed Judy in front of her toward the stairs. 

"By the way, did a visitor find you?" asked Judy. "She inquired whereyou lived at the station. "

"Oh, yes. Just a woman--on business. About some clothes, " she addedcarelessly. "Dressmakers are dreadful nuisances sometimes. "

Judy said nothing, but it occurred to her that Adele must be a very goodcustomer for a dressmaker to come all the way to Wellington to consulther. 

While the Beta Phi girls and their guests were breakfasting in thepaneled dining-room, the little woman in shabby black came softly out ofAdele's rooms and tiptoed downstairs. Under cover of the noise oflaughter and talk she opened the front door and went out. Jimmy Luftonsaw her later at the inn in the village where she had coffee and toastand inquired the hour for the next train to New York. Jimmy himself wasoccupied in jotting down notes on an old envelope. 

"If it makes me laugh, I should think it would make them, " he chuckledto himself. 

CHAPTER X. 

THE POLITE FREEZE-OUT. 

They had seen the cloisters and the library and the Hall of Science andall the show places at Wellington, and now Miss Julia Kean and Mr. JamesLufton might be seen strolling across the campus in the direction of thelake. 

It was one of those hazy, mid-autumnal days, neither cold nor hot; ablue mist clothed the fields and hung like a canopy between sun andearth. 

Judy had changed her best velvet for a walking skirt and a red sweaterand Jimmy Lufton glanced at her with admiration from time to time. 

"It's a mighty becoming way of dressing you young ladies have here, " hesaid. "Those sweaters and tam o' shanters are prettier to me than thefittest clothes on Fifth Avenue. "

"Then you don't agree with Miss Slammer?" asked Judy. 

"I probably don't, but, as it happens, I never asked her opinion. "

"You don't know what Miss Slammer thinks of college girls, the way theydress and talk?"

Jimmy hesitated. As a matter of fact he had never seen the libelousarticle by Miss Slammer. He had been absent in a remote village in themountains writing a murder trial when the article had appeared. Therefore he was not suspicious of Judy's unexpected question. 

"I can tell you what I think of college girls, " he went on as theyneared the edge of the lake. "I think they are the jolliest, mostnatural, interesting, wholesome, best looking, companionable----"

Judy began to blush. He was looking straight at her as he deliveredhimself of this stream of adjectives. 

"Would you like to canoe a little?" she asked, changing the subject. 

"Would I, " exclaimed Jimmy, with the sudden boyish expression that madehis face so attractive. "I should rather think I would. I haven't hadthe chance to paddle a canoe since I left college. "

It was just the day for canoeing. The surface of the lake was as smoothas glass except where the paddles of other canoeists stirred its placidsurface into little ripples and miniature waves. 

Judy thought it would be nice, too. She was enjoying herself immenselywith this lecturer who looked like a boy without any of a boy'sdiffidence. 

"Do you lecture often?" she asked, when they had settled themselves inthe canoe and he was paddling with a skill she recognized as far frombeing amateur. 

"I don't mind making speeches, " answered Jimmy. "I made a lot of themthe last campaign. 'Cart-tail' speeches they are called, only our cartwas an automobile. There were four or five of us who toured the EastSide and took turns talking to the crowds. "

"I should think you'd be a politician instead of a writer onanti-suffrage, " remarked Judy. 

Jimmy grinned as he shot the canoe toward the center of the lake. 

"Is that what I'm credited as being?" he asked. 

"'A well-known writer on the subject, '" quoted Judy. 

"If I had read that note over I think I would have been tempted toscratch out the 'well-known, '" he said, "especially as the only articleI ever wrote was signed 'A Wife and a Mother. '"

Judy's eyes darkened. Was Miss Slammer to libel them and then send downan impostor to make fun of them? Her impressionable mind was as subjectto as many changes as an April day and her recent pleasure in Mr. Lufton's society changed to displeasure as the suspicion clouded herthoughts. 

"You had a good deal of courage to come to Wellington, then, " sheobserved after a pause. "At least we think you did after what MissSlammer wrote about us. "

A hunting dog on the scent of quarry was not keener than Jimmy when itcame to scenting out news, and it took about five minutes of careful andskillful questioning for Judy to explain the entire situation. 

"By Jove, but that was like old 'Bee-trice' to send me down here into ahornet's nest, " he thought. "I'll have to get square with them somehowbefore the lecture or it will never come off. I assure you I didn't knowanything about the article, " he said aloud to Judy. "I only came toaccommodate Miss Slammer. She told me yesterday at the office she wasill. "

"Then you aren't a lecturer or a writer?" broke in Judy. 

"Miss Slammer and I work on the same paper. Didn't she say that in theletter?"

Judy shook her head. 

"I'm afraid you'll think I'm an impostor, Miss Kean, but I had nointention of sailing under false colors. I think I'd better take thenext train back to New York and give up the lecture. It would be betterto run away before I'm frozen out, don't you think so?"

Judy was silent for a moment. Her rage against Mr. James Lufton hadentirely disappeared and she again had that feeling that she would liketo protect him from the wrath to come. 

"What is a 'polite freeze-out' exactly?" Jimmy asked. 

"Well, while you lecture, you are to look into rows of stony faces andwhen you finish, there is not to be a word spoken, not a singlehandclap, nothing but stillness as the girls file out of the hall. "

Jimmy laughed. 

"A sort of glacial exit, I suppose. It makes me chilly to think of it. Miss Slammer had a lucky escape. "

They were paddling now in the very center of the upper lake, but soabsorbed were they in their conversation that they had scarcely noticeda canoe in front of them. 

Suddenly there came a cry, a splash and then a moment of perfectstillness followed by a confused sound of voices from the shore. Thenext instant Judy saw in front of them an upturned canoe and two headsjust rising above the water. Before she had time to realize the danger, Jimmy Lufton had torn off his coat, flung his hat into the bottom of thecanoe and, with a carefully planned leap, had cleared the side of thecanoe, sending it spinning over the water, shaking and quivering like afrightened animal. And now Judy beheld him swimming with long strokestoward the place where the two heads had appeared, disappeared and oncemore reappeared. In that flash of a moment she had recognized the blondeplaits of Margaret Wakefield and the wet curls of Jessie Lynch. As shemechanically paddled toward the struggling figures, she remembered thatJessie could not swim a stroke and that Margaret could only swim underthe most favorable circumstances in a shallow tank. 

[Illustration: Before she had time to realize the danger, Jimmy Luftonhad torn off his coat. --_Page_ 132. ]

"He can't hold them both up at once, " thought Judy, with a throb of fearas she frantically beat the water with her paddle in her effort to reachthem. 

For a moment Jimmy himself was in a quandary. It looked as if he wouldhave to let one girl go to save the other, when he saw one of the canoepaddles floating within reach. He gave it a swift push toward thestruggling Margaret. 

"Put that under your arms and go slow, " he shouted, and made for Jessie. In two strokes he had caught her by her coat collar and was swimmingswiftly toward the upturned canoe. 

"Even in the water, Jessie's irresistible attraction had prevailed, " thegirls said afterward when they could discuss this almost tragic eventwith calmness. 

"Hold on tight to the canoe, little girl, " he said, and turned towardMargaret, who was all but exhausted now. He caught her just as she wassinking, and held her up until a row boat from shore reached them. Margaret was pulled in, with much difficulty owing to her large bulk, and at last Jimmy, feeling a trifle weary himself, returned to Jessieand helped her into another boat. She was still sufficiently herself toachieve a smile of thanks to the handsome young man who had saved herlife. 

It was all over in a flash, and yet it seemed as if the entire collegeof Wellington could be seen running across the campus to the lakeside. 

By the time the half-drowned trio reached land Miss Walker herself wasthere looking frightened and pale. The girls were to go straight to theQuadrangle, be rubbed down with alcohol and put to bed. As for the braveyoung man who had saved their lives, he was to be taken to the infirmarywhere he could be made comfortable while his clothes were being dried. 

When Jimmy Lufton, dripping like a sea god, found himself in the centerof a group of beautiful young ladies all eager to show him honor asthey hurried him along to the infirmary, he gave a low, amused chuckle. 

"I hope I've squared myself with them now, " he thought, "and there'll beno polite freeze-out for me and no lecture, either, thank heavens. "

While a delegation of three went to the village inn and ordered his suitcase sent up to the infirmary, another delegation made him a hotlemonade in the infirmary pantry, and a third went to the flower storein the village and purchased a huge bunch of violets. This was laid onhis lunch tray with a card, "From the Senior Class of 19--in gratefulrecognition of your brave deed. "

And so the world goes. He who is down one day is up the next and Jimmywho was to have been the victim of a blighting freeze-out by theWellington students was now an object of tender attention. 

There came to Mr. Lufton that afternoon a note stating that if he werequite recovered--("Meaning my clothes, " thought Jimmy)--the students ofthe Quadrangle would be glad to have him dine with them that evening atsix-thirty. 

"I do feel like a blooming hypocrite, " he exclaimed to himselfremorsefully. "Here I came down to Wellington at their expense to givethem a fake lecture and they are treating me like a king. "

But he accepted the invitation, trusting to luck that his clothes wouldbe dry and tipping the infirmary cook to press his trousers and blackhis shoes. 

At half past six, then, Jimmy appeared at the Quadrangle archway. Hewore some of the violets in his buttonhole and his keen, dark eyes shonewith suppressed humor. A delegation of seniors met him and conducted himback to the dining-hall, where several hundreds of young persons all intheir very best stood up to receive him. A seat of honor was given tohim at the end of the long table and every girl in the room liked himimmensely, not only for his broad jolly smile, but because at the endof dinner he arose and, without the slightest embarrassment, made themost deliciously funny speech ever heard. Then the walls resounded withthe college yell, ending with "What's the matter with Mr. Lufton? He'sall right. Who's all right? Lufton--Lufton--James Lufton. " Never was oneunknown and entirely unworthy individual more honored. 

CHAPTER XI

THE WAYS OF PROVIDENCE. 

Providence had not gone to such lengths to bring Jimmy Lufton toWellington and set him in the good graces of the college without somepurpose. It was not only that he had been sent in time to save twoprominent seniors from drowning, but Jimmy's destiny was henceforth toweave itself like a brightly colored thread in and out of the destiniesof some of Wellington's daughters. 

Wherever Jimmy went he brought with him gaiety and good will. Thesympathy and charm of his nature had made him so many friends that ofhimself did not know the number. And now he had come down to Wellingtonand made a host of new ones eager to show him how much Wellingtonthought of courage. 

On Sunday morning Jimmy not only met Dodo Green and Andy McLean, but hewas led in and introduced to Professor Green, now sitting up against aback rest. There was an expression of ineffable happiness on theProfessor's face because his bed had been moved near the window where hemight catch a glimpse of the campus and of an occasional group ofstudents strolling under the trees. Such are the simple pleasures of theconvalescent. 

Furthermore, Jimmy had met Miss Alice Fern, immaculate in white linen, and now he was carried off to the McLeans' to breakfast where he was tomeet Molly Brown. 

This was Molly's first glimpse of the famous hero. She had not gone downto dinner the evening before, having remained with Nance to minister tothe wants of Margaret and Jessie. 

Nance and Judy were at the breakfast, too, and Otoyo Sen, and LawrenceUpton who had come over on the trolley from Exmoor. It was, indeed, ameeting of old friends and the genial doctor gave them a gruff andhearty welcome as they gathered in the drawing-room. 

"Gude morning to you, " he said, rubbing his hands and beaming on themfrom under his shaggy eyebrows. "I'm verra glad to see the lads andlassies once more. The wife was only saying last week that in anotheryear they'd be scattered to the four ends of the earth. And is this theyoung lad who picked up the drowning lassies out of the lake? Shakehands, boy. It was a brave and bonny thing to do. "

"Any man would have done it in my place, doctor, " said Jimmy, graspingthe big hand warmly. 

"Not any man, but some would. Andy and Larry, I make no doubt, and thatwild buffalo, Dodo. "

Dodo didn't mind being called a wild buffalo by the doctor if only hewas given the credit of courage at the same time, but Mrs. McLeanobjected. 

"Now, doctor, " she said, "you mustn't call your guests ugly names. Youknow I won't permit it at all. "

"Don't scold him, Mrs. McLean, " said Dodo. "I think it's better to becalled a wild buffalo than a wild boar. "

"A bore is never wild, if that's the kind you mean, " answered Mrs. McLean. "That's why they are bores, because they are so tame. "

"Mither, mither, " put in the doctor, laughing, "how you go on. As ifyou'd like 'em any way but tame. She's a great talker, Mr. Lufton, asyou'll perceive before the morning's half over, but she doesn't mean thehalf she says, like every other woman under the sun. "

Jimmy laughed. How delightful it was to him to be among these gay, simple-hearted people who found a good deal of enjoyment in life withoutthe aid of things he had been accustomed to. Presently he heard AndyMcLean's voice saying:

"Miss Brown, Mr. Lufton, " and turning quickly, he confronted a tallslender girl with very blue eyes and red-gold hair. Miss Brown smiled aheavenly smile and gave him her hand. 

"I'm glad to meet you, " she said. "I've been hearing a great deal aboutyou in the last few hours. "

The soft musical quality of her voice stirred Jimmy's soul. 

"It's like the harp in the orchestra. When a hand sweeps over the harpstrings, you can hear it above all the trumpets and drums, it's so--soineffably sweet, only there's never enough of it. "

All this Jimmy thought as he exchanged Molly's greetings. 

"Are you from the South?" he asked later when he found himself besideher at the breakfast table. 

"I'm from Kentucky, " she answered promptly and proudly. 

"So am I, " he almost shouted, and then they exchanged new glances ofdeeper interest and presently were plunged in a conversation abouthome. 

Jimmy forgot that Judy, his sponsor at Wellington, sat at his right handand Molly was oblivious to Lawrence Upton on her left. 

"I suppose you never get any corn bread here?" Jimmy asked. 

"Not our kind, " replied Molly. "What they have here is made of fine mealwith sugar in it. "

Jimmy made a wry face. 

"Wouldn't you like to have some fried chicken with cream gravy?" hewhispered. 

"And some candied sweet potatoes and corn pones and pear pickle, " Mollybroke in. 

"And hot biscuits. But what shall we finish off with, Miss Brown?"

"Brandied peaches and ice cream and hickory-nut cake. "

Jimmy gave a delighted laugh. 

"That's a good old home dessert I used to get at Grandma's, " he said. "At least the peaches and the ice cream were. She always had cup-cakewith frosted icing. "

"Do you ever have kidney hash and waffles Sunday mornings, nowadays?"asked Molly. 

"I haven't had any for years, Miss Brown. But at the restaurant where Iget breakfast I do get 'batty' cakes and molasses. "

"'Batty' cakes, " repeated Molly. "How funny that is. Do you know I'vealways said that, too, just because I learned to say it that way as achild. And hook and 'laddy' wagon. I can't seem to break myself of thehabit. "

"Don't try, " said Jimmy. "I'd rather hear the good old talk thanBernhardt speaking French. "

And so from food they came to discuss pronunciation, as most Southernersdo sooner or later, and from that subject they drifted into mutualfriendships and thence naturally into newspaper work. 

"I'm a sub-editor, " announced Molly proudly, and she told him about the_Commune_ and her work. "Perhaps you'd like to see our office after awhile?" she said. 

"I'd be only too glad, " said Jimmy, delighted to be able to prolong histête-à-tête with this gracefully angular young woman with blue eyes andred hair, who spoke with the "tongue of angels" and had the sameyearnings he did for corn-bread and fried chicken with cream gravy. 

And all this time something strange was taking place in Judy's mind thatshe could not understand. At first she thought she was catching thegrippe. She felt cold and then hot and finally unreasonably irritatedagainst everybody except Molly. At least, she put it that way toherself. 

"She never looked more charming, " thought Judy to herself. 

Molly in her faded blue corduroy skirt and blue silk blouse was apicture to charm the eye. Judy herself looked unusually lovely in herpretty gray serge piped in scarlet with Irish lace collar and cuffs. There were glints of gold in her fluffy hair and her eyes shone withunusual brightness. But Mrs. McLean's good food tasted as sawdust onher palate and the conversation of the eager Dodo sounded trite andstupid to her. Once she had said a word or two to Jimmy Lufton and hehad turned and answered her politely and agreeably, but as soon as hedecently could he was back with Molly again deep in bluegrassreminiscences. 

There were other people who were disgruntled that morning at Mrs. McLean's breakfast. Not Nance and Andy, who seemed well pleased withthemselves and the bright fall day; not the doctor nor the doctor's wifebeaming at her guests behind the silver tea urn, but Otoyo was strangelysilent and averted her face from Molly's if by chance their glances met;looked carefully over Nance's head and avoided Judy's gaze as much aspossible. Lawrence Upton, too, had little to say, except to Dr. McLeanat his end of the table. 

So it was that half the guests thought the breakfast had been a greatsuccess and the other half put it down as stupid and dull. 

"Would anybody like to go over to the _Commune_ office with us?" Mollyvouchsafed some three-quarters of an hour later when the company wasbreaking up. "I am going to show Mr. Lufton our offices. "

But nobody seemed anxious to accept. 

"You'll come, won't you, Judy?" Molly asked. 

No, Judy had other things to do apparently. 

"Won't you come, Otoyo, dear?" asked Molly, slipping her arm around thelittle Japanese's waist and giving it a squeeze. 

"It is not possible. I am exceedingly sorrowful, " answered Otoyo alittle stiffly and drew away from Molly's embrace. 

"Aren't you well, little one?" asked Molly. "Is anything the matter?"

"Oh, exceedingly, quite well, but I cannot go to-day, Mees Brown, " Otoyoanswered, trying to infuse a little warmth into her tone. 

So it ended by Molly's going off alone with the young man from New Yorkto the _Commune_ office, where she showed him their files and theproofs sent up by the printer in the village, which had to be corrected;then she introduced him into the little alcove office where Edith waswont to write her famous editorials. 

"How would you like to write an article for my paper, Miss Brown?" Jimmyasked suddenly. "We run a page of college news, you know. "

He had no idea that Molly could write or that the paper would takeanything from her if she did. He had merely talked at random and was alittle taken back when Molly clasped her hands joyously and cried:

"Oh, and would they pay me?"

"Of course, " he answered, hoping devoutly in his heart they would. "I'lltell you what you do. This is the Jubilee Year at Wellington, isn't it?"

"Yes; it's been officially announced at last. "

"Well, you could use that as a starter, with a little of the history ofWellington and the big festival you're going to have, and then youcould go on and give some talk about the girls, --what you do and allthat. There could be pictures of the cloisters and the library, perhaps. "

"What a wonderful chance to answer Miss Slammer's article, " Mollythought. "It's just what we would have wanted and never dreamed ofgetting. It's so kind of you, " she said aloud. "I would be proud to doit for nothing if the paper doesn't want to pay----"

"Oh, it'll pay you all right if it takes the story. You may get anywherefrom ten to thirty-five dollars for it. "

"Why, that's enough to buy a dress, " she exclaimed involuntarily, andJimmy decided in his heart that he would sell that article if he had towear the soles off his boots walking up and down Park Row. 

"I suppose you'd like it simple, " said Molly. 

Jimmy laughed. 

"Well, we don't like anything flowery, " he said, "but you write it theway you like and I'll change it if necessary. Just tell about things asif you were writing a letter home. "

"There it is again, " thought Molly. "First the Professor and now Mr. Lufton. "

They finished the morning with a walk and Jimmy Lufton entertained Mollywith a hundred stories about his life in New York, and then he listenedto her while she talked about college and home and her hopes. 

At last they parted at the Quadrangle gates, where Andy McLean waswaiting to take Jimmy home with him to dinner, and Molly saw him nomore, since he was to catch the three-thirty train back to New York; butshe had his address carefully written on a scrap of paper and alreadythe opening paragraph of the newspaper article was beginning to shapeitself in her mind. She saw nothing of Judy until bedtime. Judy had beenwith her friend, Adele, she said. But when the two friends parted thatnight Judy flung her arms around Molly's neck and kissed her sotenderly that Molly could not help feeling a bit surprised, since only afew hours before Judy had seemed cold somehow. 

A few days after Jimmy Lufton had returned to New York he received sixletters from the following persons: Margaret Wakefield, Senator and Mrs. Wakefield, Jessie Lynch, and Colonel and Mrs. Lynch. Any time JamesLufton tired of his job he could get another from Senator Wakefield orColonel Lynch. That was stated plainly in the letters of the twofathers. 

"And all because of an anti-suffrage speech that was never made, "thought Jimmy. 

CHAPTER XII. 

FRIENDLY RIVALS. 

It is not often that rivals for the same office are champions for eachother, and yet that is what happened when the seniors elected theirpermanent president toward the end of October. It followed that Molly, as the most popular girl in the junior class, would be elected presidentthe next year. 

"Of course you'll get it, " Nance assured her as the time approached. 

"It's a great honor, " replied Molly, "but, oh, Nance, I'm such adiffident, shy person with a shrinking nature----"

"You mean, " interrupted Nance, "that Margaret wants it so badly, youcan't bear to deprive her of it. "

"No, that isn't it. It's not sentiment, really, but I can't makespeeches and I haven't got the organizing nature. "

Nance shook her head. 

"You ought not to throw away gifts from the gods. It's as bad as hidingyour light under a bushel. "

Nevertheless, Molly was sure she did not want the place and she hopedMargaret would get it. As for Margaret, the spirit of a politician andthe spirit of a loyal friend were struggling for mastery within hersoul. The girls knew by this time what sort of president _she_ couldmake. They were well acquainted with her powers of oratory andorganization. Nobody understood as well as she did the ins and outs ofparliamentary law; how to appoint committees and chairmen and count yeasand nays; in other words, how to swing the class along in proper form. They knew all this, but hitherto it had been necessary to call it totheir minds each year, when by the sheer force of oratory, Margaret wonthe election. 

But, as luck would have it, on the day set for the election Margaret, who had taken a deep cold from her upsetting in the lake, was too hoarseto say a word. It would have moved a heart of stone to see her, sittingin the president's chair sucking a lemon, as she called the class toorder in a husky tone of voice that had not the faintest resemblance tothe organ she had used with such force for three years. 

There were only two nominations for the office of president, and it wasdifficult to judge toward which of the nominees the sentiment of theclass leaned. Nance had nominated Molly, who had tried to drag herfriend back on the bench. 

"Don't you see they might think I had put you up to it?" Molly hadexclaimed. 

"They never would think that about you, Molly, " whispered Nance, andpromptly had announced her candidate and the nomination was immediatelyseconded. Then Molly shot up blushingly and nominated MargaretWakefield, almost taking the words out of Jessie's mouth. Margaretsmiled at her rather shamefacedly, knowing full well that she would nothave nominated Molly for that coveted office. 

Other nominations followed. Edith Williams and her sister were rivalcandidates for the office of vice president, and Caroline Brinton andNance were put up for secretary. 

"Has anybody anything to say?" asked Margaret, still sucking the lemonfrantically as a last effort to clear her fogbound voice. 

Molly stood up. 

"I think I'd like to speak a few words, Madam President, " she said. Then, blushing deeply and trembling in her knees she turned toward thefamiliar faces of her classmates and began:

"I'm not much of a speechmaker, girls, and I don't know that I everreally addressed you before, but I feel I must say something in favorof my candidate, Miss Margaret Wakefield, who has made us such anexcellent president for three years. "

There were sounds of hand-clapping and calls of "Hear! Hear!"

Molly paused and cleared her throat. She did wish they wouldn'tinterrupt until she had finished. 

"I think we ought to remember, girls, that when we elect a president forthis last year, we are choosing some one to represent us for always; atclass reunions and alumnæ meetings and all kinds of things. When thereis a distinguished visitor, it's always the senior president who has tostep up and do the talking. The kind of president we want is some onewith presence and dignity. We want a handsome president who dresses ingood taste and can talk. Girls, "--Molly raised her hand as if callingupon heaven to strengthen the force of her arguments, --"we don't want athin, lank president without any shape" (sounds of tumultuous laughterand the beginning of applause)--"one of those formless, backbonelesspeople who can't talk and who dress in--well, ragtags. I tell you, girls, Margaret is the president for us. She's been a mighty finepresident for three years and I don't think we ought to try experimentson a new one at this stage in the game. "

Then there came wild applause and Margaret presently arose and raisedher hand for silence after the manner of the true speechmaker. She wasmuch moved by what Molly had said. It was more than she herself wouldhave been capable of doing, but she intended to speak now if it crackedher voice till doomsday. 

"I can't talk much, girls, on account of hoarseness, but I do want tosay that nobody could represent this class better than Molly Brown, themost beloved girl not only of the senior class, but of all Wellington. Ihope you will cast your votes for her, girls, and I'm proud to writedown her name as my choice for president. "

"Three cheers for Molly and Margaret, " cried Judy, always the leader ofthe mobs. 

Edith, funny and diffident, now rose and addressed the class. She saidshe sincerely hoped the class was not looking for handsome, plumpvice-presidents, since the two candidates for that office were neitherthe one nor the other; but that if they placed any confidence in a "ragand a bone and a hank of hair, " she felt sure she could fill the billjust as well as the opposing candidate. 

Then Katherine shot up and said she could prove that she weighed a poundmore than her sister, and instead of putting her allowance into booksthat autumn, she had laid in a stock of clothes. 

It was all very funny and good natured: the most friendly close electionthat had ever taken place, some one said, and when the votes werecounted it was found that Margaret had won by one vote and Katherine bytwo in excess of the other candidates. Edith and Molly locked arms andrushed over to congratulate the successful opponents. 

"You won it for me, Molly, " announced Margaret in a voice husky as muchfrom emotion as cold. "I doubt if I should have got half a dozen votesif it hadn't been for your speech and I shall never forget it. It waswhat father calls 'a nice thing. '"

"You are the president for me, Margaret, " Molly laughed. "I can't seemyself in that chair, not in a thousand years. I should be all wobblylike a puppet on a throne and I'd probably slide under the table fromfright at the first class meeting. "

"You would have adorned it far better than I would, Molly, andpopularity will outweigh speechmaking any day; not but what you didn'tmake a fine speech. "

But neither Edith nor Molly felt any regrets over the election. They hadall they could do to attend to the _Commune_, go to society meetings andkeep up their studies. 

That very day, too, there came a letter for Molly that added to herlabors. Judy brought it up from the office below. She looked at herfriend curiously, as Molly glanced at the address written in a ratherlarge, scrawly masculine hand. In a corner of the envelope was printedthe name of a New York newspaper. 

"Corresponding already?" Judy asked. "You lose no time, Molly, darling. "

Molly was so much occupied in tearing open the envelope that she did notnotice the strained tone in Judy's voice. 

"I'm so excited, " she exclaimed, drawing out the letter. "This willdecide my fate. "

"Are you ready, Judy?" called Adele Windsor, opening the door andwalking in, in her usual unceremonious fashion. Her quick glance took inthe envelope Molly had flung on the table in her haste to read the note. "Oh, these southern girls, " she remarked, raising her eyebrows andblinking at Judy. 

Molly looked up quickly. It was certainly no affair of Adele's and stillshe felt like making an explanation. 

"This is a business letter, " she said quickly, the blood rushing intoher face. 

"Do business letters make one blush?" Adele said teasingly. 

Molly could not tell why Adele irritated her so profoundly. She wasashamed afterward of what she called her unreasonable behavior. Certainly she did not appear very well in the passage of arms that nowfollowed. 

"It's none of your business at any rate, " she exclaimed hotly, "and I'mnot blushing. "

After this outburst, she turned and walked into her room. Her face wascrimson and she knew she would have wept if she had stayed anotherminute, and so have been further disgraced. 

"Really, Molly, don't you think you are rather hard on poor Adele?" sheheard Judy's voice saying. But not a word of apology would she make toAdele Windsor, whose high nasal tones now came to her through the halfclosed door. 

"Never mind, I don't care, Judy. She can't help it. Didn't you ever hearabout the temper that goes with red heads?"

Molly paid for her outburst of temper by having a headache all theafternoon and an achey lump in her chest--indigestion, no doubt. 

She stretched herself on her little bed, her haven of refuge in time oftrouble and the safe confidante unto whose soft bosom she poured hersecrets and hopes. At last, calmed and remorseful for her hasty tongue, she opened the note again and reread it:

 "DEAR MISS BROWN:

 "I have hypnotized the editor into accepting that article of yours; only you must hurry up with it. It will run probably for two and a half columns on the College Notes page and we can use three pictures. Just tell whatever you want about the college and the girls and what they do, starting off with the Jubilee, as I suggested. Send it to me here by Friday and I will appreciate it. Thank you for the wonderful time you gave me at Wellington. 

 "Sincerely your friend, "JAMES LUFTON. "

Late that afternoon Molly rushed over to the _Commune_ office, and, seizing a pencil and paper, began to write. At the top of the page shewrote, "Dearest Mother"--"just to make myself think it's a letter, " shethought. But the words worked like a magic talisman, for the penciltraveled busily and by suppertime she had almost finished. 

On the way back from the village next morning, where she had been to buythe photographs, she stopped at the Beta Phi House and left a note onthe hall table for Miss Windsor. 

"I am sorry I was rude to you. I suppose red-headed people have got hightempers and henceforth I shall try to curb mine. "

CHAPTER XIII. 

THE DROP OF POISON. 

Molly was very proud of her first newspaper article and exultant atbeing able to answer the unjust libels of Miss Slammer. She couldscarcely wait to tell Nance and Judy about it, but decided to drop in atthe infirmary and relate her triumph to the Professor if it was possibleto see him. Alice Fern was on guard that morning, however, and the SwissGuards at the Vatican could not have been more formidable. 

"I'm sure the Pope of Rome doesn't live a more secluded life, " thoughtMolly as she departed. 

Glancing at the tower clock, Molly saw that she still had three quartersof an hour before the lecture on early Victorian Poets by the Professorof English Literature from Exmoor, who came over several times a weekto substitute for Professor Green. 

"I think I'll run in and see Otoyo a few minutes, " Molly said toherself. "The girls can wait. There's been something queer about Otoyolately. She keeps to herself like a little sick animal. I can't make herout at all. "

There was no response to Molly's knock on Otoyo's door a few minuteslater, and, after a pause, she opened the door and peeped in. 

The blinds had been drawn, an unwonted thing with the little Japanese, who usually let the sunlight flood her room through unshaded windows. But a shaft of light from the open door disclosed her seatedcross-legged on the floor in front of a beautiful screen showingFujiyama, the sacred Japanese mountain. At the foot of the screen shehad placed two statues, one of Saint Anthony of Padua and one of SaintFrancis of Assisi, presents from Mr. And Mrs. Murphy on two successiveChristmases. And still another graven image caught Molly's eye as shetiptoed into the room: a small figure of Buddha seated cross-legged. Hewas placed at a little distance from the two saints and his antique, blurred countenance contrasted strangely with the delicately molded andtinted faces of the new statues. 

If Molly had come unannounced upon Nance on her knees or Judy at herdevotions, she would have beat a hasty retreat, but it came to her thatOtoyo, sitting there cross-legged before the images of strange gods, needed help of some sort. 

"You aren't angry with me for coming in, Otoyo?" she began. "I knockedand you didn't hear. I'm afraid something is the matter. Won't you letme help you? I have not forgotten how you helped me once when I wasunhappy. Don't you remember how you let me sit in your room and thinkover my troubles that Sunday afternoon at Queen's?"

Otoyo rose quickly, flushing a little under her dark skin. She seemedvery foreign to Molly at that moment, in her beautiful embroideredkimono of black and gold. Also she seemed very formal in her manner anddistant, like an exiled princess who still clings to the dignity of herformer position. 

First she made a low Japanese bow, quite different from the littlesmiling nods she had learned to give her friends at Wellington. 

"I feel much honored, Mees Brown. Will you be seated and I will bringrefreshments. "

"Why, Otoyo, " exclaimed Molly, filled with wonder at this new phase inher friend, "I don't want any refreshments. I thought I'd drop in forhalf an hour before English V. And find out what has happened to you. You never come to see me any more, " she added reproachfully. "Youhaven't been since that Sunday afternoon with your father, and youalways have a 'Busy' sign on your door. Are you really so busy or areyou trying to avoid us?"

Otoyo drew up her one chair she used for visitors and sat down again onthe floor. 

"I have been much engaged, " she said, avoiding Molly's eye. Mollynoticed that her English was perfect. She spoke with great precision andavoided adverbial mistakes with painful care. 

She had had a great deal to think about lately, Otoyo continued, and shewas reading a book of Charles Dickens, the English novelist. It was verydifficult. 

With an impetuous gesture, Molly rose and pushed the chair out of theway. Then she sat flat on the floor beside Otoyo, and took one of thelittle plump brown hands in hers. 

"Otoyo, you're unhappy. Something has happened and you're praying toCatholic saints and Fuji and Buddha all at once. Isn't it so?"

"The saints are very honorable gentlemen, " answered Otoyo quickly. "Mrs. Murphy has told me many things of their goodness. And Fuji is themountain that brings comfort to all Japanese people. Holy men dwell onFuji and pilgrims climb to the summit each year to worship. And Buddha, he is a great god, " she added. "He is kind to lonely little Japanesegirl. "

As she neared the end of her speech her voice was as faint and thin as asick child's, but she steadily repressed all emotion, for no well-bredJapanese lady is ever seen to weep. 

"Otoyo, my dear, my dear, what can have happened?" cried Molly, turning the averted face toward her so that she might look intothe almond-shaped eyes. "I can't bear to see you so miserable. It makes me unhappy, too. Don't you know that you are one of thedearest friends I have in the world and that we all love you?"

"It is not easy to believe that is true, " said Otoyo, looking at herwith an expression of mingled reproach and incredulity. "I cannotbelieve it is so, Mees Brown. "

A look of utter amazement came into Molly's face. It had never enteredher head that Otoyo was angry with her. 

"What is that? Say it again, Otoyo. I can't believe my own ears. "

"I say it is not easy to believe that is true, " said Otoyo, repeatingher words with the precision of a Japanese. 

Molly rose to her feet, and grasping Otoyo's hands pulled her up. 

"I can't talk sitting on the floor, Otoyo. Come over here and sit on thebed where I can look at you. Now, tell me exactly what you meant by thatspeech. "

The two girls now sat face to face on the bed and there was a look ofsternness in Molly's eyes that Otoyo had never seen there before. Otoyo's eyes dropped before her gaze and she began plucking at theJapanese crepe of her kimono. 

"You must speak, Otoyo, " Molly insisted. 

There was a long silence and then Otoyo looked up again. 

"It was my father, my honorable good father. I am too humble to care. But my noble father!"

She rose quickly and walked across to the window. If there were tears inher eyes Molly should not see them. Having drawn the blind, she drew adeep breath and came back to the bed. But Molly was doing some rapidthinking during that brief interval. Some one had been telling Otoyothat they had made game of her father--and that some one----

But Molly was too angry to think coherently. 

"Otoyo, " she began, "you know how much all the Queen's girls think ofyou. You are really our property, child. If any of us felt that we hadhurt or grieved you, we would really never forgive ourselves. "

"But my father, he was mock-ed. Of me it was of not much matter. "

"Child, what we did was in innocent fun. It was only that we repeatedhis funny English, even funnier than yours, and we have often teased youabout your adverbs, haven't we?"

"Yes, " admitted Otoyo, "but this was made to be so cruel. It cut me----"she choked. 

"Who repeated it to you, Otoyo?" asked Molly with sudden calmness, afraid to give rein to her indignation for fear of doing rash things. "People who tell things like that are quite capable of inventing them orat least making them much worse. "

"I have given my word not to speak the name, " answered Otoyo. 

It was almost time for the lecture now and Molly slipped down on herknees beside the bed and put her arms around Otoyo's waist. 

"Dear little Otoyo, before I go, I want you to tell me that you haveforgiven us. None of us meant to be cruel or unkind. We are too fond ofyou for that. I shall tell all the other girls what has happened andto-night they will come in and make you an apology themselves. We willall come. As for the girl who made the trouble, she is a wicked mischiefmaker and I wish she had never come to Wellington. And now, will you say'Molly, I forgive you?'"

"I do, I do, " cried Otoyo, her face transformed with happiness. "Ishould not have listened to her ugly speeches, but it was the way shedid it. She told me my father had been mock-ed and ridiculed. I wasveree unhappee. "

"Never, never let her get her clutches on you again, " said Molly, opening the door. 

"Never, never, never, " repeated the Japanese girl. 

It was a real reconciliation surprise party that took place in Otoyo'sroom that evening. All the Queen's girls were there except Judy, who hadbeen absent for a whole day, having cut two lectures and taken supperwith Adele Windsor at Beta Phi House. It had been agreed among them thatAdele should never be welcomed in their circle again; for they weremorally certain that it was Adele who had done the mischief, althoughOtoyo loyally kept her word not to tell the name. 

Otoyo, bewildered and happy over this avalanche of company, toddledabout the room in her soft house slippers looking for refreshments. From strange foreign looking packing boxes in the closet she producedtin cases of candied ginger and pineapple, boxes of rice cakes, nuts andAmerican chocolate creams which Otoyo liked better than the daintiestAmerican dish that could be devised. 

Every guest had brought Otoyo a gift of flowers. They made her sit inthe armchair while they circled around her, singing:

 "Old friends are the best friends, The friends that are tried and true. "

Then they made her dress up in her finest kimono and sit cross-legged atthe foot of the bed while one by one they filed before her and each madean humble apology. 

"Oh, it is too much, " Otoyo cried. "I implore you forgeeve _me_. It wasmadlee of me to listen to so much weekedness. Humble little Japanesegirl is bad to entertain such meanly thoughts. "

At last when all the rites and ceremonies were over and they hadsettled down to refreshments in good earnest, Edith began the tale of"The Fall of the House of Usher, " which she recited in thrillingfashion. The girls always huddled together in a frightened group at thisperformance. At the most dramatic moment, as if it had been timedpurposely, the door was flung open and a tall lady in black stood on thethreshold. She hesitated a moment and then sailed in, her black chiffondraperies floating about her like a dark cloud. Then she flung a lacemantilla from her head and stood before them revealed as Judy, in ablack wig apparently. 

"Judy Kean, what have you been up to?" asked Nance suspiciously. 

"Where did you get your black wig?" demanded Molly. 

"Don't you think it becoming?" asked Judy. "Don't you think it enhancesthe whiteness of my skin and the brightness of my eye?"

"All very well for a fancy dress party, but you don't look yourself, Judy. Do take it off. "

"Now, don't say that, " answered Judy, "because I can't take it offwithout cutting it. I've changed the color. That's where I've been allday. It's awfully exciting. You've no idea how many things you have todo to change your hair dark. Of course, it's perfectly ladylike to makeit dark. It's only bad form to dye it light. "

"Judy, you haven't?" they cried. 

"I certainly have, " she answered carelessly, and she proceeded to takeout all the hair pins from her fluffy thick hair and let it down. "It'sraven black. "

It was, in fact, an unnatural blue-black, something the color of shoeblacking. 

"Oh, Judy, Judy, what will you do next?" cried Molly in real distress. 

"What will that girl make her do next?" put in Nance, in a disgustedtone. 

"Now, Nance, I knew you'd say just that, but it's not true. I did it ofmy own free will. I always loved black and I've wanted black hair all mylife. "

"What will Miss Walker say?" asked some one. 

"She probably won't know anything about it. I doubt if she remembers theoriginal color of my hair, anyhow. I'm sorry you don't think it'sbecoming to me. Adele thought it suited me perfectly. Much better thanthe original mousy-brown shade. "

"I recognize Adele's fine touch in that expression, 'mousy-brown, '" putin Edith. 

"Did Adele do anything to change her appearance?" asked Margaret. 

"Oh, no, she is just right as she is. Her hair is a perfect shade, 'Titian Brown, ' it's called. But, girls, I must tell you about themarvelous face cream, 'Cucumber Velvet'; it bleaches and heals at thesame time. "

"Oh, go to, " cried Katherine. "Judy, you are so benighted, I don't knowwhat's coming to you. Don't you know that Adele Windsor made Otoyo, here----"

"No, no, " broke in Otoyo. "I have never told the name. I gave myhonorable promise not to. I beg you not to mention it. "

"What's all this?" Judy began when the ten o'clock bell boomed and thegirls scattered to their various rooms. 

That night, undressing in the dark, Nance and Molly explained to Judywhat had happened. 

"But are you sure she did it?" Judy demanded. "Otoyo never said so, didshe?"

"No, but we are sure, anyway. "

"I don't believe it, " exclaimed Judy hotly. "Adele is the soul of honor. I shall never believe it unless Otoyo really tells the name. "

And so Judy went off to bed entirely unreasonable about this new andfascinating friend. 

"All I can say for you, Judy, " said Molly, standing in Judy's bedroomdoorway, "is that I hate your black hair, but do you remember that oldpoem we used to sing as children? I'm sure you must have known it. Mostchildren have. "

Then Molly recited in her musical clear voice:

 "'I once had a sweet little doll, dears, The prettiest doll in the world, Her cheeks were so red and so white, dears, And her hair was so charmingly curled. But I lost my poor little doll, dears, As I played on the heath one day; And I cried for her more than a week, dears, But I never could find where she lay. 

 "'I found my poor little doll, dears, As I played in the heath one day: Folks say she is terribly changed, dears, For her paint is all washed away, And her arm trodden off by the cows, dears, And her hair not the least bit curled: Yet for old sake's sake, she is still, dears, The prettiest doll in the world. '"

"Humph!" said Judy. "Is that the way you feel about it?"

"Yes. "

"Thanks, awfully, " and with a defiant fling of the covers, Judy turnedher face to the wall. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

JUDY DEFIANT. 

When Judy Kean appeared at Chapel next morning she seemed serenelyunconscious of the sensation she was creating. Her usual black dress andwidow's bands had always made her conspicuous and those who only knewher by sight, yet carried with them a vivid impression of her face: thelarge gray eyes swimming with visions, the oval creamy face, the mouthrather large, the lips a little too full, perhaps, and framing all this, her fluffy bright hair. 

The Quadrangle dining-room had already buzzed with the news of Judy'sreckless act, and now, as the seniors marched two by two up the aisleafter the faculty, a ripple of laughter swept over the chapel. Neckswere craned all over the room to see Judy's mop of blue-black hairarranged in a loose knot on the back of her neck, drawn well down overthe forehead in a heavy dark mantle, carefully concealing the ears. 

But Miss Walker was not pleased with the liberties Judy had taken withher appearance. She had heard the ripple of laughter, stifled almost assoon as it had commenced, and having reached her chair and faced theaudience while the procession was still on its way up the aisle shenoticed the amused glances directed toward Judy's head. It took only asecond glance to assure herself of what Judy had done and she frownedand compressed her lips. When the service was over, she made a littleimpromptu address to the students. College, she said, was a place forserious work and not for frivolity. Of course there were no objectionsto innocent fun, but absurdities would not be tolerated. All the timeshe was speaking she was looking straight at Judy, who, with chinresting on her hand and eyelids drooped, apparently read a hymn book. That afternoon Miss Julia Kean received a summons to appear at MissWalker's office immediately. From this interview Judy emerged in astubborn, angry humor. Miss Walker was a wise woman in her generation, but she had never had a girl of Judy's temperament to deal with before. Judy's rather contemptuous indifference had inflamed the President intosaying some rather harsh things. 

If one girl dyed her hair a great many others might. Such things oftenstruck a college in waves and she was not going to tolerate it. 

Therefore, Judy, unreasonably angry, as she always was under reproof, had no word to say to her anxious friends awaiting her at No. 5, Quadrangle. 

"Was it very bad, Judy, dear?" Nance asked, when Judy walked into theroom, white and silent. 

"It was worse than that, " replied Judy in a steady even voice. "If shehad given me twenty lashes on my bare shoulders I should have liked itbetter. What business is it of hers what color I turn my hair? This isnot a boarding school. I detest her!" Whereupon, she slammed her doorand the girls did not see her again for several hours. 

When she did finally emerge, she was calm and smiling, but the girlsfelt instinctively that her dangerous mood had not passed, onlydeepened, and Molly felt she would give a great deal to win her friendaway from the malign influence of Adele Windsor. 

It seemed to her sometimes that Judy was cherishing a secret grievanceagainst her as well as against Miss Walker. But Molly had little timefor brooding over such things in the daytime and at night sleep overtookher as soon as her tired head dropped on the pillow. 

A great many things were in the air at Wellington just now. A prize hadbeen offered for the best suggestion for a jubilee entertainment. Itwas only ten dollars, but every girl in college competed except Judy. One morning Adele Windsor's name was posted on the bulletin board aswinner of the prize, and not long afterward they learned that it wasJudy's scheme, unfolded on the opening night of college, that Adele hadappropriated, no doubt with Judy's full consent. 

Molly's exchange of brief notes with Jimmy Lufton had ripened into acorrespondence, and she was prepared therefore for the enormous packagecontaining at least a dozen Sunday newspapers that came to her onemorning--also a check for fifteen dollars. With eager fingers she torewrappers from the papers, and began to search through multitudinouscolumns for her article about Wellington. 

At last, with Nance's and Judy's help, she found it, not tucked away ina corner as she had half expected, but spread out over the page. It istrue the pictures were rather blurred, but there were the columns ofwriting, all hers, so she fondly believed, so skillfully had Mr. Luftonwrought the changes he had been obliged to make. 

The article was signed "M. W. C. B. " and a framed copy of it hangs tothis day on the crowded walls of the _Commune_ office. There was notmuch doubt who "M. W. C. B. " was and Molly was deluged with calls andcongratulations all day. It was glorious to have been the means ofrefuting Miss Beatrice Slammer's criticisms, and she could not helpfeeling very proud as she hurried down the avenue to the infirmary, oneof the papers tucked under her arm, devoutly hoping that Alice Fern hadgone home by now. It was reported that the Professor was walking aboutand in a few days was to go to Bermuda to stay until after the Christmasholidays. The Professor himself, and not Miss Fern, opened the door forMolly before Miss Grace Green, reading aloud by the window, couldremonstrate with him. He was a mere ghost of his former self, pale, emaciated. His clothes seemed three sizes too big for his wasted frameand he had grown quite bald around the temples. Molly thought him veryold that afternoon. 

"I've brought something to show you, " she said, after she had shakenhands with the brother and sister and the three had drawn up theirchairs by the window. Then Miss Grace Green read the article aloud andMolly explained that it was Mr. Lufton, to whom they were already sodeeply indebted, who had arranged to get it published. 

"I took him over to the _Commune_ office, " said Molly, "and that startedit. "

Miss Green smiled and the Professor shifted uneasily in his chair. Presently Miss Green rose. 

"It's time for your buttermilk, Edwin, and you and I shall have sometea, Miss Molly, " she added as she slipped out of the room. 

"Tell me a little about yourself, Miss Molly, " observed the Professor, when they were left alone. "Did you have a pleasant summer and how isthe old orchard?"

"Oh, the orchard was most shamefully neglected, " replied Molly. "Simplya mass of weeds and the apples left rotting on the ground all this fall, so mother writes. William, our colored man, cut down the worst of theweeds with a scythe last summer and I kept the ground cleared where thehammock hangs. It's been such a rainy summer, I suppose that's whythings grew so rank, but I'm sorry the old gentleman is neglecting hisproperty after making such a noble start. "

The Professor laughed. 

"You have made the acquaintance of the owner, then?" he asked. 

"Oh no, we have never even learned his name, but I feel quite sure he isvery old. Sometimes I seem to see him in the orchard, an old, old manleaning on a stick. I think he is old and eccentric because a young manwould never have bought property he had never seen. "

"Can't a young man be eccentric?"

"Oh, yes, but mother and my brothers and sisters, all of us believethis man is old from something the agent said. He told mother that thenew owner of the orchard had bought it because he was looking for aretired spot in which to spend his old age. "

Again the Professor laughed and the color rose in his face and spreadover his cheeks and forehead. 

Presently Miss Green returned with the tea things and the buttermilk. 

"Has Miss Fern gone?" asked Molly. 

"Oh yes, we finally prevailed on her to go home, " answered Miss Green. "She really need not have been here at all. The infirmary nurse wouldhave looked after Edwin, but she seemed to think she was indispensable. "

"Grace, my dear sister, " remonstrated the Professor. 

From Miss Fern the talk drifted to many things. Molly told them more ofJimmy Lufton: how he had charmed everybody and what a wonderful life heled in New York. 

"I should like to be on a newspaper, " she said suddenly. "It would belots more exciting than teaching school. "

The Professor looked up quickly. 

"I should be sorry to see you take that step, Miss Molly. "

"Well, I haven't taken it yet, but I was only thinking that Mr. Luftonmight be a great deal of help to me. "

"You must not, " said the Professor sternly. "Don't think of it for amoment. The _Commune_ is putting ideas into your head, or this Mr. Lufton. "

Molly felt uncomfortable for some reason and Miss Green changed thesubject. 

"By the way, " she said, "I heard the other day what had become of someof the luncheon you seniors lost the day the Major took you in and fedyou. The thieves probably took all they could carry with them and dumpedthe rest in a field between Exmoor and Round Head. Like as not theypicnicked on top of Round Head. Some of the Exmoor boys found a pile ofdesiccated sandwiches and hard-boiled eggs and cake one day when theywere out walking, and Dodo and Andy brought the story to me. "

"Think of the waste of it, " exclaimed Molly. "They might at least havegiven what they didn't want to the poor. "

"There aren't any poor people around there, child. "

"Well, to Mrs. Murphy, then. She's poor and we wouldn't have mindedhaving worked so hard to feed Mrs. Murphy. "

"I wonder who did it, " put in the Professor. 

"None of the Exmoor boys, I'm sure, " said his sister, who had a verysoft spot for the boys of her younger brother's college. 

"Some day it will come out, " announced Molly. "Things always do sooneror later and we needn't bother about playing detective. It's a horriblerôle to act, anyway. "

"I remember when I was a boy at college, " began the Professor, "somefellows played rather a nasty practical joke on some of us and they werecaught by a trick of fate. On the night of the senior class elections, which always take place just before a banquet at the Exmoor Inn, some ofthe students broke into the inn kitchen, masked, overpowered the cookand the waiter and stole all the food they conveniently could carryaway. One of the saucepans contained lobster, and the next morning therewere six very ill young men at the infirmary with ptomaine poisoning andit was not hard to guess who were the thieves of our supper. "

"Were they punished?" asked Molly. 

"Oh, yes. Exmoor never permits escapades like that. They were suspendedfor six weeks, although they had saved the entire senior class from apretty severe illness. "

"At least, you might have felt some gratitude for that, " observed MissGreen. 

"We did, but the President took only a one-sided view of the matter. "

"I'm afraid it's too late for attacks of indigestion from our lunch, "observed Molly. "The only thing out of common we had at the lunch were'snakey-noodles. '"

"What in the world?" asked the brother and sister together. 

"It doesn't sound very appetizing, does it? But they are awfully good. Our old cook makes them at home. They are coils of very rich pastry withraisins and cinnamon all through. "

"Don't mention it, " exclaimed the Professor, whose appetite was greaterthan his official allowance of food. "I would give anything for a hotsnakey-noodle with a glass of milk. "

"When you come back from Bermuda, I'll see that your wish is gratified, "replied Molly, laughing, as she rose to go. 

"Miss Molly, " said the Professor, as he bade her good-bye at the door, "I wish you would promise me three things: don't overwork; don't makeplans to work on a newspaper instead of teaching school, and--don'tforget me. "

"I'm not likely to do that, Professor. I'm always wanting to go to youroffice and ask you questions and advice. The last time we were there, Dodo and I, I found two old rotten apples. I took the liberty ofthrowing them away. "

"It's too bad for good apples to be left rotting on the ground oranywhere, " said the Professor, and he closed the door softly. While thissurely was a very simple statement, somehow he seemed to mean more thanhe said. 

Just why Molly's thoughts were on the lost snakey-noodles as she walkedup the campus, she could not say. She recalled that they had beencarefully done up in a box marked on top in large print, "Snakey-noodlesfrom Aunt Ma'y Morton. " That was the Browns' cook. 

"I wonder if they were left with the half of the lunch in Exmoormeadow, " she thought with fond regret for this wasted gift of their oldcolored cook, who had taken unusual pains to make the snakey-noodles ascrusty and delicious as possible. 

"So passeth snakey-noodles and all good things, " she said to herself asshe entered the Quadrangle. 

CHAPTER XV. 

THE CAMPUS GHOST. 

About this time Wellington was filled with strange rumors that were muchdiscussed in small sitting rooms behind closed doors. It was said, andthis part of the story could be credited as truth, that a woman had beenseen wandering about the campus late at night wringing her hands andmoaning. Some of the Blakely House girls had seen her from their windowone night and had rushed to find the matron, but the strange woman haddisappeared by the time the matron had been summoned. Another night shehad been seen, or rather heard, under the Quadrangle windows. She hadbeen seen at other places and some of the Irish maids had been filledwith superstitious dread because, absurd as it might seem to sensiblepersons, it was reported that the weeping, moaning lady was the ghost ofMiss Walker's sister who had died so many years ago. 

"It's an evil omen, Miss, " a waitress said to Nance one evening. "InIreland ghosts come to foretell bad news. It's no good to the college, shure, that she's wandering here the nights. "

"Don't you worry, Nora. It's just some poor crazy woman, " said Nancesensibly. 

"Then where does she be after keeping herself hid in the daytime, Miss?"

"I can't say, but it will come out sooner or later. Ghosts don't exist. "

"Shure an' you'll foind a-plenty of 'em in the old country, Miss. "

"Well, maybe this is an imported ghost, " laughed Molly. 

Nevertheless, not a girl in college but felt slightly uneasy about beingout after dark alone, and most trans-campus visitors were careful tocome home early. 

One night Molly and Nance had been down to the village to supper withJudith Blount and Madeleine Petit. They had had a gay time and a jollysupper and it was quite half past nine before they hurried up the hillyroad to Wellington. The two girls had locked arms and were walkingbriskly along talking in low voices. It was a wonderful night. There wasno moon, but the stars were brilliant and Molly was inclined to bepoetical. 

"Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art, " she began, waving herfree arm with expressive gestures. "Not in lone splendor hung aloft thenight----"

"Molly, " hissed Nance, in a frightened whisper, "do be still, look!"They had turned in at the avenue now, and there, directly over where oldQueen's once stood, was a tall figure draped in black. As the girls cameup, she began to moan in a low voice and wring her hands. 

"Oh, Molly, I'm so scared, my knees are giving away. What shall we do?"

"Let's run, " whispered Molly, admitting silently that the phantom was abit unnerving. "Here, take my hand and let's fly. She's crazy, ofcourse, and she might do anything to us. "

With hands clasped, the two girls flew up the campus. Glancing over hershoulder, Nance gave a wild cry and pressed along faster. 

"She's chasing us, " she gasped. "Oh, heavens, she'll kill us!"

[Illustration: Molly Glanced Back. Sure Enough, the Phantom ... WasRunning Behind Them--_Page_ 198. ]

Molly glanced back. Sure enough, the phantom, keeping well within theshadow of the elms, was running behind them. 

"Oh, Nance, can't you run a little faster?" she cried, now thoroughlyfrightened. 

Not a soul was on the campus that night. The place was entirelydeserted, and it looked for a few minutes as if they were going to havea very uncomfortable time, but as they neared the Quadrangle, the figureslipped away and was lost in the dense shadow of the trees that borderedthe avenue. 

"Lay me on a stretcher, " gasped Molly, as she dropped on a bench insidethe gates while Nance went to inform the gate-keeper of the strangepresence on the campus. 

Immediately the gate-keeper, who was also night watchman, rushed outwith a lantern to chase the phantom, which was a poor way to catch her, you will admit. 

Once in the privacy of their own sitting room, Nance had a real case ofhysterics, laughing and weeping alternately, and Molly felt quite faintand had to lie on the sofa, while Judy, who had been moodily strummingher guitar most of the evening, gave them aromatic spirits of ammonia. 

"I should think you would have been frightened, " she saidsympathetically, "but fancy old Nance's running! It's the first time onrecord. "

Nance shuddered. 

"I don't think you would have stood still under the circumstances, " sheanswered. 

"I don't think I would, but I should like to have known who the ghostwas just the same. Suppose you had stopped still and let her come up toyou, do you think she would?"

"Heavens!" exclaimed the other two in one breath. 

"She ran after you because you were running from her, " observed the wiseJudy. 

"People always give advice about ghosts and robbers and mad dogs, " saidMolly. "And they are the ones that run the fastest when the ghosts androbbers and mad dogs appear. "

"Do you think it was a ghost?" asked Judy, ignoring the irritation ofher friends. 

"If it had been a ghost it would have caught up with us, " answeredMolly, while Nance in the same breath said emphatically:

"I don't believe in ghosts. "

Nance and Molly were heroines for several days after this, and duringthis time the "ghost" did not reappear on the campus, although a closewatch was kept for her. The Williams sisters insisted on walking downthe avenue every night at half past nine in hopes of seeing a realphantom, but she was careful to keep herself well out of sight duringthis vigilance. 

One night some ten days later, just as the town clock tolled midnight, Molly waked suddenly with a draught of cold air in her face. She sat upin bed and glanced sleepily through the open door into the sitting room. 

"Where did the air come from?" she wondered, and then noticed thatJudy's door was open and slipped softly out of bed. Why she did notsimply close her own door she never could explain, but some hiddenimpulse moved her to look into Judy's room. A shaded night lamp turnedquite low cast a soft luminous shadow right across Judy's bed, which wasempty. Molly started violently. Once before they had come into Judy'sroom at midnight and found her bed empty. The startling recollectioncaused Molly to run to the open window. As she leaned out her handtouched something rough--a rope. 

"A rope ladder!" she whispered to herself, horrified. "Great heavens, Judy has done for herself now. " Just then the rope scraped her knucklesand she felt a tug at it from below. "Some one is coming up. " Mollylooked out. 

"Judy, " she whispered in a tone filled with reproach. "How could you?"

The voice from above must have frightened the climber, for, with anexcited little gasp, she missed her hold on the rope and fell backward, where she lay for a moment perfectly still. It was not a very greatfall, but it must have hurt, and instantly Molly climbed to the windowsill and began to make her way slowly down the ladder. 

It was not so difficult as she had thought, but she was frightened whenat last she bounded onto the ground, and she was freezing cold in spiteof her knitted slippers and woolen dressing gown. 

"Have you hurt yourself badly?" she asked, leaning over Judy, who wasendeavoring to sit up. 

"No, only dazed from the fall, " whispered Judy. "Go on up, will you, orwe'll both get caught. "

"You'd better go first, " said Molly, "I'm afraid to leave you down herealone. Go on, instantly, " she added, remembering that she must be sternsince Judy richly deserved all the reproaches she could think of. 

Judy began the ascent and pulled herself over the window sill. Thenexhausted, she sat on the floor, holding her throbbing temples in bothhands. That is why she did not see what was presently to happen. Just asMolly placed her foot on the first rung of the ladder, a firm handgrasped her arm. Why she did not shriek aloud with all the power of herlungs she never knew, but she remained perfectly silent while avoice--and it was Miss Walker's voice--said in her ear:

"You will say nothing about this to-night. I wish you to come to myoffice to-morrow morning at ten. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am, " answered Molly, reverting to her childhood's method ofanswering older people. She climbed the ladder in a dazed sort of way. It was more difficult than climbing down, but at last she scaled thewindow sill and jumped into the room. Judy was still sitting on thefloor, holding her temples. Perhaps it had been only five minutes, butit seemed like a thousand years. However, she felt little sympathy forJudy, bruised temple or not. 

"Get up from there and get to your bed, " she whispered. "And I want tohear from you exactly what you were doing down there and where you gotthat ladder. "

"The rope ladder belonged to Anne White, " Judy answered in a stifledvoice. "I borrowed it to win a wager from Adele. Of course, I don't meanto blame her, but she teased me into it. It was silly, I know, lookingback on it now. "

"What was the bet?"

"She bet that I would be afraid to climb down that ladder at midnightwhen the ghost is supposed to walk. I was simply to climb down, touchthe ground and climb back again. "

"Idiots, both of you, " said Molly furiously. 

"I know it, and I am sorry now, " said the penitent Judy, "butfortunately no harm has been done except to my silly head, which neededa good whacking, anyhow. "

"No harm, " thought Molly angrily. "I wonder what's going to happen to meto-morrow. One of us will be expelled, I suppose. Miss Walker is alreadydown on Judy. "

"Thank you for coming down to me, Molly, dearest. "

Molly closed the door. 

"Judy, I want you to promise me something, " she said. "If you get out ofthis scrape----"

"But no one knows it but you. "

"I have no idea of telling on you, Judy, but things leak out. How doyou know you weren't observed?"

Judy looked startled. 

"I want you to promise me to give up this Adele Windsor and her crowd. She's never done you any good. She's a malicious, dangerous, wicked girland if you haven't the sense to see it, I'll just tell you. "

This was strong language coming from Molly. 

"If you don't, mid-years will certainly see your finish, if you aren'tdropped sooner. You're not studying at all and you are simply actingoutrageously, dyeing your hair and borrowing rope ladders. I'm disgustedwith you, Judy Kean, I am indeed. "

"Miss Walker has a grudge against me, " announced Judy, in a hot whisper. 

"Nonsense, " said Molly, and she swept out of the room and crawled intoher bed, very weary and cold and frightened, wondering what the morrowwould bring forth in the way of punishment for her--or was it to be forJudy?

In the meantime, foolish Judy carefully coiled up the rope ladder andhid it in the bottom of her trunk. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

ON THE GRILL. 

Not a word did Molly say to Nance or the unsuspecting Judy next morningabout her appointment with President Walker. 

"Don't forget Latin versification at ten, " Nance had cautioned her asshe left the sitting room a quarter before ten. 

Molly had forgotten it and everything else except the matter in hand, but the President's word was law and she prepared to obey and skip thelecture. 

The President was waiting for her in the little study. No one was aboutand an ominous quiet pervaded the whole place. 

"Sit down, " said Miss Walker, without replying to Molly's greeting ofgood morning. "So it's you, is it, who has been wandering about thegrounds at night in a gray dressing gown, scaring the students? I neednot tell you how disgusted and grieved I am, Miss Brown. "

Molly turned as white as a sheet. She had never dreamed that Miss Walkersuspected her of being the campus ghost. 

But she answered steadily:

"You are mistaken, Miss Walker. The ghost chased Nance and me the othernight when we were coming back from the village. We were reallyfrightened. I suppose it's some insane person. "

"Then what were you doing on the campus at that hour, and where did youget that ladder?"

Molly turned her wide blue eyes on the President with reproachfulprotest, and Miss Walker suddenly looked down at the blotter on thedesk. 

"Answer my question, Miss Brown, " she asked more gently. 

How could Molly explain without telling on

Judy, and yet did not that reckless, silly Judy deserve to be told on?

Suddenly two tears trickled down her cheeks. She let them roll unheededand clasped her hands convulsively in her lap. 

"I insist on an answer to my question, Miss Brown, " repeated thePresident, without looking up. Molly pressed her lips together to keepback the sobs. 

"I never saw the ladder until a few minutes before you did, " sheanswered hoarsely. "I--oh, Miss Walker, you make it very hard, " sheburst out suddenly, leaning on the table and burying her face in herhands. 

And then the most surprising thing happened. The President rose quicklyfrom her chair, hurried over to where Molly was sitting with bowed headand drew the girl to her as tenderly as Molly's own mother might havedone. 

"There, there, my darling child, " she said soothingly. "I haven't theheart to torture you any longer. I know, of course, that it was yourfriend, Miss Kean, who was at the bottom of last night's performance, and as usual you came down to help her when she fell. I only wanted youto tell me exactly what you knew. "

The truth is, the President had tried an experiment on Molly and theexperiment had failed, and no one was more pleased than Miss Walkerherself in the failure. She liked to see her girls loyal to each other. But things had not been going well at Wellington that autumn. There wasan undercurrent of mischief in the air, a dangerous element, carefullyhidden, and still slowly undermining the standards of Wellington. MissWalker was very much enraged over the rumor that the ghost of herbeloved sister had been seen wandering about the campus. This was toomuch. Her Irish maid had repeated the story to her and she haddetermined to lay that ghost without the assistance of the nightwatchman or any one else. 

The surprise of first being stretched on the grill and then embraced bythe President of Wellington College brought Molly to herself like ashock of cold water. She looked up into the older woman's face andsmiled and the two sat down side by side on a little sofa, the Presidentstill holding Molly's hand. There might be some who could resist thepiteous look in those blue eyes, but not President Walker. 

"I'm afraid I'm just a weak old person, " she said to herself, giving thehand a little squeeze and then releasing it. 

"Judy wasn't the ghost, either, Miss Walker, " said Molly, glad to beable to defend her friend on safe grounds. "The night we were chasedJudy was in our rooms all the time. Last night was the first time shehad ever done anything so foolish. It was only because a girl she goeswith bet she wouldn't. It was the same girl that made her dye her hair, "Molly added, without any feeling of disloyalty. 

"Ahem! And who is this young woman who has such a bad influence on MissKean?"

Molly flushed. Was she to be placed on the grill again? But after allthere was no harm in telling the name of the girl who had brought allJudy's trouble on her. 

"Adele Windsor. "

"And what do you know of her?"

"I don't know anything about her except that she has fascinated Judy. "

"And Judy must be punished, " mused the President. "Judy is a verydifficult character and she must be brought to her senses if she expectsto remain at Wellington. "

"Judy loves Wellington, indeed she does, Miss Walker. It's only that shehas got into a wrong way of thinking this year. I've heard her tellfreshmen how splendid it was here and how they would grow to love itlike all the rest of us. "

"She has not been doing well at all. She never studies. You see I knowall about my girls. "

"You didn't know, " went on Molly, "that the Jubilee entertainment wasall Judy's idea. She gave it to Adele Windsor--I don't know why--justbecause she was in one of her obstinate moods, but I heard her plan outthe whole thing the opening night of college--and it was all for theglory of Wellington. "

The President's face softened. 

"Molly, " she said, as if she had always called the young girl by herfirst name, "do you wish very much to save your friend?"

"Oh, I do, I do. I can't think of any sacrifice I wouldn't make to keepJudy from being----" she paused and lowered her eyes. Was Miss Walkerthinking of expelling Judy? But Miss Walker was not that kind of amanager. She often treated her erring girls very much as a doctor treatshis patients with a few doses of very nasty but efficacious medicine. 

"What is your opinion of what had best be done, then? You know herbetter than I do. What do you advise?"

Molly was amazed. 

"Me? You ask my advice?" she asked. 

The President nodded briskly. 

"Well, the best way to bring Judy to her senses is to give her a goodscare and let it come out all right in the end. "

The President smiled. 

"You're one of the wisest of my girls, " she said, "now, run along. IfI've made you miss a lecture I'm sorry. "

"It _will_ come out all right in the end, Miss Walker?" asked Molly, turning as she reached the door. 

"I promise, " answered the other, smiling again as if the questionpleased her. 

And so Molly escaped from the grill feeling really very happy, certainlymuch happier than when she entered the office. 

Late that evening while Molly and Nance were preparing to take a walkbefore supper, Judy rushed into the room. There was not a ray of colorin her face and her hair stood out all over her head as if it had beencharged with electricity. 

"Oh, Molly, Molly, " she cried, "did you know the President had overheardeverything that was said last night? She was at the foot of the ladderall the time. You are not implicated, I saw to that, and I've not toldwhere I got the ladder. I simply said some one had given it to me. Noone is in it but me. But I'm in it deep. Girls, I've lost out. It's allover. I've got to go. Oh, heavens, what a fool I've been. "

Judy flung herself on the divan and buried her face in the pillows. 

For a moment Molly almost lost faith in the President's promise. 

"What do you mean when you say you must go, Judy?" she asked. 

"It can't be true, " burst out Nance, whose love for Judy sometimesclothed that young woman's sins in a garment of light. 

"Not expelled?" added Molly, in a whisper. 

"No, no, not that; but suspended. I can come back just before mid-years, but don't you see the trick? How can I pass my exams then? And Mama andPapa, what will they think? And, oh, the Jubilee and all of you andWellington? Molly, I've been a wicked idiot and some of my sins havebeen against you. I was jealous about that Jimmy Lufton because he hadseemed to be my property and you took him away. And, Nance, I was madwith you because you were always preaching. I didn't really like AdeleWindsor. I think she is horrid. She's malicious and she makes trouble. I've found that out, but she got me in her toils somehow----"

And so poor Judy rambled on, confessing her sins and moaning like aperson in mortal pain. She had worked herself into a fever, her face washot and she looked at the girls with burning, unseeing eyes. 

"Papa will be so disappointed, " she went on. "It will be harder on himthan on Mama for me not to graduate with the class, and oh, I did loveall of you--I really did. "

Tears, which Molly had never seen Judy shed but once before, now workedtwo tortuous little paths down her flushed cheeks. 

Molly and Nance comforted and nursed her into quiet. They bathed herface and loosened her dyed locks which were now beginning to show astrange tawny yellow at the roots and a rusty brownish color at theends. All the time Molly was thinking very hard. 

"Judy, " she said, at last, when they had got her quiet. "There's noreason why you shouldn't pass the mid-years and graduate with your classif you want to. "

"But how? I'm so behind now I can hardly catch up, and if I miss sixweeks I can never do it. "

"Yes, you can, " said Molly. "This is what you must do. Go down to thevillage and get board anywhere, with Mrs. Murphy or Mrs. O'Reilly. Takeall your books and begin to study. Every day some of us will come downand coach you, Nance or I, or Edith--I know any of the crowd would beglad to, so as not to lose you. "

"But the Christmas holidays, " put in Judy. 

"I shall be here for all the holidays, " said Molly. "It will be allright. "

And so the matter was settled. The very next day Judy's exile began. Sheengaged a room at Mrs. O'Reilly's, her obstinate mood slipped away fromher and she was happier and more like her old self than she had been inweeks. And Molly was happy, too. She felt that she had saved Judy andfreed her at the same time from the clutches of Adele Windsor. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

A CHRISTMAS EVE MISUNDERSTANDING. 

The old Queen's crowd rallied around the exiled Judy, even as Molly hadpredicted, and Judy was prostrated with gratitude. Nothing could havestirred her so deeply as this devotion of her friends. 

"I feel like Elijah being fed by the ravens in the wilderness, only youare bringing me crumbs of learning, " she exclaimed to Molly who hadtaken her turn in coaching Judy. "I hope you don't mind being called'ravens, '" she added apologetically. 

"Not at all, " laughed Molly. "I'd rather be called a raven than acatbird or a poll parrot or an English sparrow. "

But Judy was already deep in her paper. Being a recluse from the world, her life consecrated to study, she was playing the part to perfection. 

If Adele Windsor knew that Judy was in the village, she gave no sign, and so the exile, in her old room at O'Reilly's overlooking the garden, had nothing to do but bury herself in her neglected text books. Indeed, very few of the girls knew where Judy was. When she went out for herwalks after dusk she wore a heavy veil and thoroughly enjoyed thedisguise. One night the old crowd gave her a surprise party which Edithhad carefully planned. Dressed in absurd piratical costumes with skirtsdraped over one shoulder in the semblance of capes, brilliant sashesaround their waists, many varieties of slouch hats and heavy blackmustaches, they stormed Judy's room in a body. 

"Hist!" said Edith, "the captive Maiden! We must release her eresunrise!" Then they trooped in, danced a wild fandango which made Judyenvious that she herself was not in it, and finally opened uprefreshments. 

So it was that Judy's exile was happy enough, and when Christmasholidays approached she had made up most of her lost work and was readyfor Molly's careful coaching. 

Thus it is that heaven protects some of the foolish ones of this earth. Judy wrote to her mother and father that she was behind in her classesand would remain to study with Molly Brown, and as Mr. And Mrs. Keanwere at this time in Colorado, they thought it a wise decision on thepart of their daughter. 

Molly had grown to love the Christmas holidays at college. It was aperfect time of peace after the excitement and hurry of her life--a timewhen she could steal into the big library and read the hours awaywithout being disturbed, or scribble things on paper that she would liketo expand into something, some day, when her diffidence should leaveher. 

To-day, curled up in one of the big window seats, Molly was thinking ofa curious thing that had happened that morning at O'Reilly's. 

She had gone in to say good-bye to Judith Blount and Madeleine Petit, who were leaving for New York by the noon train. 

"I suppose you'll be visiting all the tea rooms in town for new ideas, "Molly had said pleasantly. 

"Yes, indeed, " said Madeleine. "I never leave a stone unturned andeverything's grist that comes to my mill. This fall I got six new ideasfor sandwiches and the idea for a kind of bun that ought to be popularif only because of the name. I haven't the recipe, but I think I canexperiment with it until I get it. "

"What's the name?" Molly asked idly, never thinking of what a train ofconsequences that name involved. 

"'Snakey-noodles. ' Isn't it great? Can't you see it on a little menu andpeople ordering out of curiosity and then ordering more because they'reso good?"

"Snakey-noodles, " Molly repeated in surprise. 

"That's the name, isn't it, Judith?" asked Madeleine. 

"Oh, yes, I remember it because the bun is formed of twisted dough likea snake coiled up. "

"It's very strange, " said Molly. 

"What's strange?"

"Why, that name, snakey-noodle. You see it's a kind of family name withus. Our old cook has been making them for years. I really thought shehad originated it, but I suppose other colored people know it, too. Where did you have one?"

"At a spread, oh, weeks and weeks ago. "

"But where?" insisted Molly. "I have a real curiosity to know. Was it aSouthern spread?"

"Far from it, " said Madeleine. "Yankee as Yankee. One of the girls inBrentley House gave the spread. "

"But she didn't provide the snakey-noodles, " put in Judith. "What's thatgirl's name who talks through her nose?"

"Miss Windsor. "

"Oh!"

"Coming to think of it, I believe she said they had been sent to herfrom an aunt in the South, " went on Madeleine. "So you see, Molly, nobody has been poaching on your preserves. "

Molly only smiled rather vaguely. She would have liked to ask a dozenmore questions, but kept silent and presently, after shaking hands withthe two inseparable friends, she went up to the library to think. Somehow Molly was not surprised. Nothing that Adele Windsor could dosurprised her. The surprising part was how she avoided being found out. It was just like her to have planned the theft of the Senior Ramblelunch. There was something really diabolical in her notions ofamusement. And now, what was to be done?

Should she tell the other girls after the holidays, or should she wait?It was all weeks off and Molly decided to let the secret rest in her ownmind safely. Even if she told, it would be hard to prove the accusationat this late day, but perhaps--and here Molly's thoughts broke off. 

"I detest all this meanness and trickery, " she thought. "I don't blameMiss Walker for wanting to clean it out of the school. Anyway, " sheadded, smiling, "if that girl bothers Judy any more, I intend topronounce the mystic name of snakey-noodles over her head like a curseand see what happens. "

That afternoon Molly packed a suitcase full of clothes and lugged itdown to Mrs. O'Reilly's, where she had consented to spend Christmas withJudy instead of in her own pretty Quadrangle apartment. Secretly Mollywould much rather have stayed in No. 5, where she could have rested andread poetry as much as she liked. But she was rarely known to consulther own comfort when her friends asked her to do them a favor, and, after all, if she were going to put Judy through a course of study, shehad better be on the spot to see that the irresponsible young personstuck to her books. 

So the two girls established themselves in the pleasant fire-lit roomoverlooking the garden. Judy had brought down two framed photographs ofher favorite pictures and a big brass jar by way of ornament, and onChristmas Eve the girls went out to buy holly and red swamp berries. 

They were walking along the crowded sidewalk arm in arm, recalling howlast year they had done exactly the same thing, when they cameunexpectedly face to face with Mr. James Lufton. 

"Well, if this isn't good luck, " he exclaimed. "Nobody at the Quadrangleseemed to know where you were. "

He included both girls, but he really meant Molly. 

"And what are you doing here?" asked Molly, giving him her hand after hehad shaken Judy's hand. 

"Andy McLean asked me down for Christmas, " he said. 

He failed to mention that he had pawned his watch, a set of Balzac andtwo silver trophies won at an athletic club, and, furthermore, had givenout at the office that he was down with grippe, in order to accept theinvitation. 

"Andy's up the street now looking for you. He thought perhaps Mrs. Murphy might know where you were. "

"What did he want with us?" asked Judy, lifting her mourning veil. 

Jimmy hesitated. 

"He was thinking of getting up a Christmas dance, but----" He looked atJudy's black dress. 

"She's not in mourning, Mr. Lufton, " laughed Molly. "It's only that sheprefers to look like a mourning widow-lady. "

"Oh, excuse me, Miss Kean, " said Jimmy. "I thought you had had a recentbereavement. "

"Here, Judy, take off that thing, " exclaimed Molly, unpinning themourning veil in the back and snatching it off Judy's glowing face. 

"Molly, how can you invade on the privacy of my grief, " exclaimed Judy, laughing. 

"Why, it's Miss Judy Kean, " exclaimed Dodo Green, coming up at thatmoment with Andy McLean. "Nothing has hap----"

"No, " put in Molly, "it's only one of Judy's absurd notions. She's beenwearing mourning for years off and on, but she's only lately gone intosuch heavy black. "

"And you've no objection to a little fun, then?" asked Andy. 

"Not a particle, " answered Judy, the old bright look lighting her face. "My feelings aren't black, I assure you. "

"On with the dance, then, let joy be unconfined, " cried Andy. "We'llcall for you at a quarter of eight, girls--at O'Reilly's, you say? I'llhave to trot along now and tell the mater. "

The three boys hurried off while Molly and Judy rushed home to look overtheir party clothes. 

"Isn't life a pleasant thing, after all?" exclaimed Judy, and Mollyreadily agreed that it was. 

Such a jolly impromptu Christmas Eve party as it was that night at theMcLeans'! Mrs. McLean had a niece visiting her from Scotland, aninteresting girl with snappy brown eyes and straight dark hair. She wasrather strangely dressed, Molly thought, in a red merino with a highwhite linen collar and a black satin tie, and she looked at Molly andJudy in their pretty evening gowns with evident disapproval. Just asJimmy Lufton and Molly had completed the glide waltz for the fifth timethat evening and had sunk down on a sofa breathless, the parlor dooropened and in walked Professor Edwin Green, looking as well as he hadever looked in his life, with a fine glow of color in his cheeks. 

"My dear Professor!" cried Mrs. McLean. 

"Ed, I thought you were going to spend Christmas in the south, "exclaimed his brother. 

"You are a disobedient young man, " ejaculated the doctor, --all in onechorus. 

"Don't scold the returned wanderer, " said the Professor, glancing aboutthe room swiftly until he caught Molly's eye, and then smiling andnodding. "It's dangerous for convalescents to be bored, and realizingthat Christmas in the tropics might bring on a relapse, I decided tolose no time in getting back home. "

"And glad we are to see you, lad, " said the doctor, seizing his hand andshaking it warmly. "You did quite right to come back before the _ennui_got in its work. It's worse than the fever. "

Molly left Jimmy Lufton's side to shake hands with the Professor, andthen the Professor remembered the young newspaper man and greeted himcordially, and after that all the company went back into the dining-roomfor hot chocolate and sandwiches. And here it was that all the mischiefstarted which came very near to breaking up the great friendship thatexisted between Molly and the Professor. 

It was simply that the Professor overheard scraps of information thatJimmy was pouring into Molly's ready ear while she listened withglowing cheeks and a gay smile to what he had to say. 

"Oh, you'll enjoy New York all right, Miss Brown, and the newspaper workwon't be as hard as what you are doing now, I fancy. I'm sure they'dtake you on if only for your----" he paused. "You have only to ask andI'll put in a good word, too, " he added. "You can never understand whata good time you'll have until you get there--theaters until you have hadenough and the opera, too. I often get tickets through our critic----"

"The grand opera, " repeated Molly. 

"Yes, anything you like. Lohengrin, Aïda, La Boheme. Sooner or later youwill see them all. Then there are the restaurants--such jolly places toget little dinners, and you are so independent. You are too busy to belonesome and you can come and go as you like, nobody to boss you exceptthe editor, of course, and you'll soon catch on. You have a naturalknack for writing. I could tell that by your letters----"

Molly, listening to the voice of the tempter, saw a picture of New Yorkas one might see a picture of a carnival, all lights and fun and goodtimes. 

"But I want to work, too, more than anything else, " she said suddenly. 

"Oh, you'll have plenty to do, " laughed the careless Jimmy, who tooklife about as seriously as a humming-bird. 

After supper the Professor drew Molly away from the crowd of youngpeople and led her to a sofa in the hall. 

"I want to talk to you, " he said in a tone of authority that a teachermight use to a pupil. "I could not help overhearing what your newspaperfriend was saying to you at supper, and I wish you would take my adviceand not listen to a word he says. He's just a young fool!"

The Professor was quite red in the face and Molly also flushed and hereyes darkened with anger. 

"I don't agree with you about that, " she said. 

"Is it possible you are going to put all this hard studying you havebeen doing for the last three and a half years into writing news itemsfor a yellow journal? I'm disgusted. "

"But I only expected to start there----" began Molly. 

"And is that young idiot trying to persuade you that the sort of life hedescribed--a wild carnival life of dissipation and restaurant dinners isthe right life for you? I tell you he's mistaken. I should liketo--to----"

Molly's face was burning now. 

"I--I--I don't think it's any of your business, " she burst out. At thisastonishing speech the Professor came to himself with a start. 

"I beg your pardon, Miss Brown, " he said. "I realize now that I entirelyoverstepped the mark. Good evening. "

"Miss Brown, shall we have the last dance together?" called Jimmy Luftondown the hall, and presently poor Molly, whirling in the waltz, wonderedwhy her temples throbbed so and her throat ached. 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

TWO CHRISTMAS BREAKFASTS. 

Early Christmas morning a slender figure in faded blue corduroy could beseen hurrying up the road that led from the village to the collegegrounds. The frosty wind nipped two spots of red on her cheeks and underthe drooping brim of her old blue felt hat her eyes shone like patchesof sky in the sunlight. Where was Molly bound for at this early hour?The church bells were ringing out the glad Christmas tidings; the groundsparkled with hoar frost; but not a moment did she linger to listen tothe cheerful clanging, or even to glance at the lonely vista of hill anddale stretched around her. Hurrying across the campus, she skirted thecollege buildings and presently gained the pebbled path that led to theold campus in the rear, flanked by a number of old red brick houses, formerly the homes of the professors. They were now used for variouspurposes: the college laundry; homes for the employees about thebuilding and grounds and rooms for bachelor professors. 

Hastening along the path to the house where Professor Green wasdomiciled, Molly was thinking:

"Only a year ago I had to make the same apology to him. Oh, my wicked, wicked temper! I am ashamed of myself. "

And now she had reached the old brick house and sounded the brassknocker with an eager rat-tat-tat. Presently she heard footsteps resoundalong the empty hall and the Irish housekeeper flung open the door. 

"Is Professor Green up yet?" Molly demanded. 

"And shure I've not an idea whether he be up or slapin'. "

"But can't you see?"

"I cannot. It wouldn't be an aisy thing to do, I'm thinkin'. "

"And why not, pray? It must be his breakfast time. You have only to rapon his door. And it's very important. "

"And if it's so important, you'd better be after sendin' him a cable tothe Bahamas, where the Professor is sunnin' himself at prisint. "

"Nonsense, Mrs. Brady, the Professor got back last night. I saw himmyself. He must be up in his room now. Do go and see. You haven't cookedhim a bit of breakfast, I suppose?"

Mrs. Brady turned without a word and tiptoed up the stairs. Molly heardher breathing heavily as she moved along the hall and tapped on theProfessor's door. Then came a muffled voice through the closed door. 

"I'll git ye some breakfast, sir, " called Mrs. Brady, and down she came. 

"Shure an' you wuz right an' I wuz wrong, an' I'm obliged to you for theinformation. But he'll not be ready for seein' people for an hour yet, maybe longer. "

"Mrs. Brady, " said Molly, moved by a sudden inspiration. "Let me get hisbreakfast. "

"But----" objected the Irish woman. 

"I'm a splendid cook and I'll give you no trouble at all. Please. " Mollyput her hands on the Irish woman's shoulders and looked into her faceappealingly. 

"Shure, thim eyes is like the gals' in the old countree, Miss, " remarkedMrs. Brady, visibly melting under that telling gaze. "Ye can do as youlike, but if the Professor don't like his breakfast the blame be onyou. "

"He'll like it, I'm perfectly certain, " said Molly, following Mrs. Bradyback to the kitchen. 

"It's a very, very funny world, " said Mrs. Brady, displaying thecontents of her larder to the volunteer cook. 

Her resources were limited, to be sure, but Molly improvised a breakfastout of them that a king would not have scorned. There were pop-oversdone to a golden brown, a perfect little omelet, bacon crisp enough toplease the most fastidious palate and an old champagne glass, the spoilsof some festive occasion, filled with iced orange juice. The coffee wasstrong and fragrant. 

"He's very particular about it, Miss, an' he buys his own brand. "

Then Molly set the tray. Mrs. Brady's best white linen cover shesnatched from the shelf without asking leave. In a twinkling she hadpolished and heated the blue china dishes, placed the breakfast on themand covered them tight with hot soup plates, since there were no othercovers. Then she snipped off the top of a red geranium blooming in thewindow sill and dropped it into a finger bowl. 

"Lord love ye, Miss, but that's a beautiful tray, " exclaimed Mrs. Brady, hypnotized by Molly's swift movements and skillful workmanship. "If Idid not know ye wuz a lady from your looks I should say ye wuz a borncook. But Mrs. Murphy be afther tellin' me how you used to make thingsin her kitchen. Ye must be the same one, since it's red hair and blueeyes ye have----"

Molly had disappeared into the pantry to replace the flour sifter whileMrs. Brady was holding forth, and now through a crack in the pantry doorshe saw the kitchen door open and Professor Green, in a long dressinggown, stalk in. 

"Don't bother about breakfast for me, Mrs. Brady, " he said. "A cup ofcoffee quite strong--stronger than you usually make it, please--that'sall I want. "

Mrs. Brady, glancing at Molly hidden in the pantry, saw her shake herhead and place a finger on her lips. 

The Irish woman smiled broadly. It was a situation in which she saw manyhumorous possibilities and an amusing story to tell over the tea cups toMrs. Murphy and Mrs. O'Reilly. 

"Shure an' ye needn't eat it, sir, " she said, in an injured tone, "butit's all prepared an' of the very best. "

The Professor glanced at the tray. 

"Why, " he exclaimed, in amazement, "this is something really fine, Mrs. Brady. I didn't know you were getting up a holiday breakfast. "

Visions of slopped-over trays, weak coffee and hard toast passed beforehim, for Mrs. Brady was not a cook to boast of. 

"I'll eat it down here, if you've no objection, " he continued kindly, lifting the covers and glancing curiously underneath. "By Jove, this issomething like. Omelet, and what are those luscious looking things?"

"They be pop-overs, sir, if I'm not misthaken. "

"Pop-overs, ahem! I've heard the name before. " He sniffed the smallcoffee pot. "Good and strong; you've anticipated my wants this morning, Mrs. Brady. "

"Why doesn't he go on and eat?" thought the red-haired cook. "The omeletwill be ruined. "

But the Professor had drawn up a chair to the kitchen table and wasdraining the orange juice at a gulp. 

"You're getting very festive, Mrs. Brady. Have you been taking lessonsin my absence? That orange juice was just the appetizer I needed thismorning. " Then he fell to on the breakfast and never stopped until hehad eaten every crumb and drained the coffee pot to the dregs. 

In the meantime Molly had taken a seat on the pantry floor. A weaknesshad invaded her knees and her head swam dizzily, since she had had nobreakfast that morning. 

"I suppose Judy will think I'm dead, " she thought, "but it won't do herany harm to be guessing about me for once. "

She hoped the Professor would leave in a moment and go to his rooms. Hehad filled a short briar wood pipe and was leaning back in his chairmusing, but he couldn't stay forever in Mrs. Brady's kitchen. 

"Mrs. Brady, that was a very dainty and delicious little meal youprepared for me, " she heard him say. "I was a bit low in my mind but Ifeel cheered up. A cup of coffee--if it's good--as this was--is oftenenough to restore a man's ambition. " And now the kitchen was filled withthe fragrance of tobacco smoke while the Professor mused in his chair, blowing out great clouds at intervals. 

"A bachelor is a poor pitiful soul, sir, " answered the woman; "now, ifye had a wife to look after ye, you'd be afther havin' the likebreakfasts ivery mornin'. "

The Professor blew out a ring of purple smoke and watched it floatlazily in the air and gradually dissipate. 

"Didn't you know I was a woman hater, Mrs. Brady?"

"Indade, I should think ye might be, seein' so many of them every dayand all the time, " answered the housekeeper sympathetically. "Too muchof a good thing, sir. But, whin old age comes to ye, you'll miss 'em, sir. You'll miss a good wife to look after your comforts then. "

"I've got something better than that for my old age, Mrs. Brady. I'vegot a bit of land; it's an orchard on the side of a hill sloping down toa brook----"

Molly, sitting on the pantry floor, felt a sudden jolt as if some onehad shaken her by the shoulder. Faintness came over her and her heartbeat so fast and loud she wondered that the two in the kitchen did nothear its palpitations. 

"The trees bear plenty of apples; I'll have lots of fruit in my old age. I've only to hobble out and knock them down with my cane when I get tooold to climb up and shake the limbs, and where once swung a hammock inmy orchard I may build a little hut. "

"It's a pretty picture, sir, but lonely, I should say. "

"Ah, well, Mrs. Brady, there'll be four walls to my hut and every inchof those walls will be covered with books, " announced the Professor, ashe strolled out of the kitchen, leaving the door ajar. 

Molly, now thoroughly exhausted, amazed, and quite faint from heremotions, was pulling herself to her knees when the Professor marchedswiftly back into the room and walked into the pantry. 

"I wanted to see how much coffee you had left----" he began. "I'll bewriting for more----" His foot encountered something soft on the floorand glancing quickly down he caught a glimpse in the shadow of a figurehuddled up in the corner. The face was hidden in the curve of the elbow, but he saw the red hair, and a beam through a crack in the door cast aslanting light across the blue silk blouse. 

"Why, Molly Brown, my little friend, " he exclaimed. And he lifted her toher feet and half carried her to a chair near the fire. "So it was youwho cooked me that delicious Christmas breakfast, and now you're halfdead from fatigue and hunger. You've had no breakfast, confess?"

Molly lifted her eyes to his and shook her head. Then she lowered hergaze and blushed. 

"I'm too ashamed to think of breakfast, " she said. 

"Mrs. Brady, put the kettle on, " ordered the Professor. "Get out theeggs. Where's the bacon?"

"In the jar, sliced, sir. "

"But, " protested Molly. 

"Don't say a word, child. Be perfectly quiet. "

Then the Professor began to fly about the room, tearing into the pantry, rushing from the table to the stove and back again, rummaging in therefrigerator for oranges and butter, and upsetting two chairs that stoodin his way. 

All this time Mrs. Brady quietly toasted bread and broiled bacon whilethere hovered on her lips an enigmatic smile. Then she scrambled twoeggs while the Professor tested the coffee and squeezed an orangealternately. Molly watched him in dazed silence. 

"He bought the apple orchard and that is how I happen to be atWellington this minute, " she kept thinking mechanically. "He worked allsummer and got into debt and caught typhoid fever in order to furnishme"--she choked--"and I spoke to him like that. No wonder he's a womanhater--no wonder he wants books----"

"Ready, " announced Mrs. Brady, and the next thing Molly knew she wassitting at the table drinking orange juice while the Professor butteredtoast and poured out the coffee. 

Presently it was all over. Two Christmas breakfasts had been prepared inMrs. Brady's kitchen that morning where none had been expected. 

"'Twas lucky I'd laid in supplies, " exclaimed the genial Irish woman. "Abody can never tell what starvin' crayture's comin' to the door beggin'for a crust. "

And now Molly Brown found herself, almost without realizing it, walkingacross the college grounds beside her Professor. 

"I can never, never thank you, " she was saying. "I couldn't even try. "

"Don't try, " he answered. "Indeed, I ought to thank you for introducingme to that lovely bit of orchard. As for the money, it was fairly cryingout to be invested. I think I made a great bargain. "

"But Dodo said----"

"Dodo talks too much, " said the Professor, frowning. "He knows nothingabout me and my affairs. "

"Anyhow, you'll let me apologize for the way I answered you last night, "said Molly, giving him a heavenly smile. 

The Professor looked away quickly. 

"The apology is accepted, " he said gravely. 

"And now we are friends once more, Miss Molly Brown of Kentucky, are wenot?"

"Yes, indeed, " cried Molly joyfully, feeling happy enough to dance atthat moment. 

CHAPTER XIX. 

FACING THE ENEMY. 

It was a joyous day when Judy returned to college just before mid-years, after her long exile in the back room of O'Reilly's. She was madewelcome by all her particular friends who killed the "potted" calf, asEdith called it, in honor of the prodigal's return. 

And Judy was well content with herself and all the world. A hair-dresserin Wellington had, by some mysterious process, restored her hair to verynearly its natural shade. Thanks to Molly, chiefly, and the others, shewas well up in her lessons and quite prepared to breast the mid-yearwave of examinations with the class. Never had the three friends at No. 5 been more gloriously, radiantly happy than now on the verge of finalexaminations. And then one day, in the midst of all this serenity andpeace, Adele Windsor dropped in to call on Judy. At once Nance fled fromthe apartment. She could not bear the sight of this sinister youngwoman. Molly would have gone, too, but she remained, at an imploringglance from Judy, and slipped quietly into the next room, leaving thedoor ajar. 

"Judy knows she can call for help if she needs it, " she thought rathercomplacently, for she was no longer afraid of that arch mischief-maker. 

As for Judy, she was singularly polite, but cold in her manner, andMolly detected a certain tremulousness in her voice. 

"She's scared, poor dear, " thought Molly indignantly. "Now, I wonderwhy?"

"I haven't seen you for weeks, " Adele began in her sharp, assured tone. "Where have you been? I heard you had gone home. "

"I was away for some time, " answered Judy evasively. 

"I hope and trust she thinks I have gone out with Nance, " thought Mollyin the next room, feeling a good deal like a conspirator. "She'll nevercome to the point if she knows I'm here, and I'd just like her to showher cards for once. It will be a glorious chance to get rid of herforever more, amen. "

The light of battle came into Molly's eyes. "I feel like a knightpricking o'er the plain to slay a dragon, " she thought, waving animaginary sword in the air. "When it's all over I wish I had the nerveto say, 'Thou wretched, rash, intruding fool, farewell. '"

She gathered that Adele had moved more closely to Judy, for she heardher voice from a new quarter of the room saying:

"Is it true that you were dropped?"

There was a moment's pause. 

"Whatever happened, Adele, it's over now and I am installed again andforgiven. "

"I thought you were being rather reckless, Judy. The rope ladderbusiness was bad enough, but those ghost walks were really dangerous;really you went too far----"

"I beg your pardon, " interrupted Judy stiffly. "You are on the wrongtrack. I wasn't the campus ghost. "

"Now, really, Judy, my dearest friend, " cried Adele, seizing both ofJudy's hands and looking into her eyes with an expression of gentletoleration, "why can't you confide in me? After all our good times areyou going to give me the cold shoulder? I know perfectly well that youwere the ghost. Have I forgotten the night you planned the whole thingout? Anne White was there. I daresay she remembers it quite as well as Ido. Of course, we thought you were enjoying yourself frightening thelife out of people, but we wondered, both of us, how you dared. Iremember you said how easy it would be to chase girls if they ran, andhow easy to escape because you were the swiftest runner in college. Whyare you trying to deceive your old partner? Especially as I happen toknow that you had the rope ladder all that time. It would have been easyenough. Oh, I'm on to you, subtle, secretive Judy. You are a cleverlittle girl, but I'm on to you. "

"What does she want?" Molly breathed to herself in the next room. 

"But I won't tease you any longer, dearest. I only wanted to let youknow that I'm at the very bottom of the secret. I came to talk aboutother things. "

Molly breathed a long sigh. 

"Here it comes, " she thought. 

Judy straightened up and prepared to hear the worst. 

"Have the Shakespeareans and the Olla Podridas had their yearly conclaveyet about new members?"

"So it's that, " Molly almost cried aloud, waving her arms over herhead. 

"We meet on Saturday, " answered Judy doggedly. 

"You have a good deal of influence in that crowd, haven't you? I meanyou can command a lot of votes?"

"No, I can't command any, " answered Judy. 

"Blackmailer, " thought Molly. 

"I was thinking, " went on Adele calmly, "that I would like to become amember of one or both those clubs. If I have to make a choice I wouldprefer the Shakespeareans, of course. Can't you fix it up?"

"I'm afraid not, Adele. I can't manage it. I doubt if I could commandany votes for you. You are mistaken about my influence. "

"Oh yes, you can. Now, Judy, think a minute, I'm asking you a verysimple, ordinary favor. Think of what it means to me and--well, to you, too. I might as well tell you right now that I'm a good friend but a badenemy. You promised me once to get me into one of those clubs. Do youremember?"

"Yes, " said Judy. 

"Well, why this sudden change? I expect you to keep your word. I am wildto be a member of the Shakespeareans, " here Adele changed her manner andher voice took on a soft, persuasive tone. "You won't regret it, Judy, dearest, you'll be proud of having put me up. I have a real talent foracting. I have, indeed, and I shall be able to get stunning costumes. "

Judy twisted and squirmed and shrunk away like a bird being graduallyhypnotized by a serpent--at least so it seemed to Molly peeping througha crack in the door. 

"I tell you it will be impossible, " Judy was saying, after a pause, whenAdele burst out with:

"Those are unlucky words, Judy Kean. I'll make you sorry you everspoke----" she stopped short off as Molly appeared in one door and Nancein the other, followed by Otoyo, Margaret and Jessie and the Williamssisters. Nance had evidently gone forth and gathered in the clan forJudy's protection. Molly was almost sorry they had come. It had been agood opportunity to say what had been seething in her mind for sometime, and, on the whole, she decided she would say it anyhow. 

With a bold spirit and a scornful eye, she marched into the room andstood before the astonished Adele. 

"Miss Windsor, " she said, and she hardly recognized her own voice, sodeep and vibrant were its tones, "did you ever hear of snakey-noodles?Snakey-noodles! snakey-noodles! snakey-noodles!" she repeated threetimes like a magic incantation. 

Judy must have thought that she had suddenly lost her mind, for sheglanced at her with a frightened look and the other girls withdifficulty concealed their smiles. Edith, whose keen perceptions at onceinformed her that something was up, took a seat by the window where shecould command a good view of the entire proceedings. 

Adele, looking into Molly's honest, stern eyes, shrank a little andstarted to rise. 

"No, I shan't let you go until I have finished, " said Molly. "Wheneverthe spirit moves you to ask a favor of Judy again, just say the wordsnakey-noodles over several times to yourself and then I think you'llleave Judy alone. Now, you may go, and remember that people who tellmalicious, wicked stories, who impersonate ghosts, steal luncheons andget other girls into trouble are not welcome at Wellington. This is notthat kind of a college. "

It was, of course, a random shot about the campus ghost, but Molly putit in, feeling fairly certain that none but the daring Adele would haveattempted that escapade. 

"Remember, too, " she added, as a parting shot, "that girls don't getinto clubs here by blackmail. Even if Judy had put you up, you wouldn'thave had the ghost of a chance. "

Nobody was more interested than Edith in wondering what the strangeAdele would do now. "Will she defend herself or will she fly?" Edithasked herself. But Adele did the most surprising thing yet. She burstinto tears. 

"You have no right to speak to me as you did, " she wept into a scentedand hand-embroidered handkerchief. 

"Haven't I?" said Molly, drawing her gently but firmly to the door. "Well, go to your room and think about it a while and see if you don'tchange your mind. " And with that she quietly thrust Adele into the hall, closed the door and locked it. 

Then, such a burst of subdued laughter rose within No. 5 as was neverheard before. Molly collapsed on the sofa while the girls gatheredaround her. Judy sat on the floor, her head resting on Molly's shoulder. 

"It was as good as a play, " cried Edith. "I never saw anything finer. Molly, you're certainly full of surprises. But what did you mean bysnakey-noodles? Wasn't it beautiful?"

Then Molly explained to them about the snakey-noodle box. 

"Of course, the rest was just wild guessing, but from the way she tookit I'm pretty sure I'm right. "

"It was better than jiu-jitsu, " said Otoyo. "It was, I think, thejiu-jitsu of language. "

They all laughed at this quaint notion, and Molly relaxed on the couchlike a very tired young warrior after the battle. 

"Judy, you're foolish to be afraid of that girl, " said Margaret sternly. 

"I'm not exactly afraid of her, " answered Judy, "but you see it wouldhave gone particularly hard with me just now to have her go to MissWalker with that story about the ghost. It was true that one evening, ina wicked humor, I planned the whole thing with her and that little Annewho is just as afraid of her as I suppose I am. I don't think MissWalker would have given me another chance. Everything would have beenagainst me, the rope ladder and all the things I had said. "

"But then you could have proved an alibi, " said Nance. "You were up herethe night the ghost chased Molly and me. "

"So I could, " Judy exclaimed. "I was so scared I forgot all about thatnight. There's something about Adele that makes you lose your senses. She leans over you and looks at you and talks to you in a hot, rapidsort of way. I just saw myself, after all the trouble everybody hadtaken with me, being sent away in disgrace. I didn't believe I couldprove anything when she began talking. I just went under. "

"Well, don't you ever do it again, " put in Nance. 

"Say 'snakey-noodles' the next time she comes at you, " said Edith. "Oh, dear, that exquisite name, " she continued, leaning back in her chair soas to indulge in a fit of silent laughter. 

"I can tell you another interesting bit about this Miss Windsor, " hereput in pretty Jessie. "Do you remember that shabby little woman in blackwho came down on the same train with Molly's Mr. Lufton?"

"Nonsense, " broke in Molly. 

"I remember her, " said Judy. "Adele said she was a dressmaker, Ibelieve. "

"Well, she told the truth for once. She is a dressmaker, but she happensto be Adele's mother, too. "

"Her mother, " they gasped in chorus. 

"Yes. When Mama and I were in New York for the Christmas holidays, wewere recommended to go to a French place called 'Annette's' for someclothes. There was a French woman named Annette who came out and showedus things, but the head of the establishment was Mrs. Windsor. And wesaw Adele hanging around several times. We also saw Adele's father, verydressy with a flower in his buttonhole and yellow gloves. He smiledsweetly at me in the hall. The fitter told us secretly that Mrs. Windsor spent everything she made on Adele and Mr. Windsor. "

"What a shame, " cried Judy, "and Adele throws money around like water. "

"No wonder she wears such fine clothes. I suppose Annette makes all ofthem. "

"Thank heavens, we're rid of her forever, " exclaimed Molly. "It's notdifficult to find a spot of good in the worst of people. There wereMinerva Higgins and Judith Blount and Frances Andrews. I never did feelhopeless about them, but this Adele, who doesn't recognize her ownmother--well----"

"Ah, well, " broke in Otoyo. "She is what we call in Japan 'evil spirit, 'or 'black spirit. ' She will not remain because there are so many goodspirits. She will fly away. "

"On a broomstick, " put in Edith. 

"But Minerva Higgins, there is some greatly big news about her. You havenot heard?"

"No, " they cried. Otoyo had become quite a little news body among herfriends. 

"She will not finish the course. She will be married in June to learnedgentleman, a professor of languages of death----"

"You mean dead languages, " put in Molly, laughing. 

"Ah, well, it is the same. "

"That is why Minerva looks so gay and blushing, " said Jessie. "I saw herthis morning reading a letter on one of the corridor benches. I mighthave guessed it was a love letter from her expression of supreme joy. "

"I wonder if it was written in Sanskrit. "

"I suppose after they marry they will have Latin for breakfast, Greekfor dinner and ancient Hebrew for supper, " observed Katherine. 

"But the gold medals, what of them?"

"They will be saved for Pallas Athene, and Socrates, and AlcibiadesPlato, of course, " said Edith. 

"Who are they?"

"Why, the children, goosie, " and the party broke up with a laugh. 

CHAPTER XX. 

THE JUBILEE. 

Molly Brown, in a state of wild excitement, rushed into No. 5 onemorning waving a slip of yellow paper in her hand. 

"They're coming, " she cried ecstatically but vaguely. 

"Who?" demanded her two bosom friends from the floor where they wereengaged in fitting a paper pattern to a strip of velvet much too narrow. 

"My brother and sister, Minnie and Kent. Isn't it glorious? They gethere to-morrow morning to stay for the Jubilee. Oh, I'm so happy, I amso happy, " she sang. 

"I'm so glad, " said the two friends in one breath. 

"I'm getting rooms for them at O'Reilly's and they will arrive on theten train. Isn't it lucky Mrs. O'Reilly is our bright, particularfriend? We never could have got the rooms. Everything in the village istaken. "

The crowds had indeed come pouring into Wellington for the great Jubileecelebration for which every student at the college had been working formonths past. And now, almost the first of May, everything was inreadiness, the pageants, the costumes, the plays--all the splendid andcomplicated arrangements for an Old English May Day Festival. Judy, asshe had planned on the opening night of college all those long monthsago, was to be a gentleman of the court and was now engaged inconstructing a velvet cape with Nance's assistance. Furthermore all thegirls were to take part in the senior outdoor play to be given on theafternoon of the Jubilee celebration, and Molly, wonderful as it seemedto her afterward, had won for herself by excellent recitation the partof Rosalind. There had been many Rosalind competitors but ProfessorGreen and the professional who had come down to coach chose Molly fromthem all. 

How they had practiced and rehearsed and worked over that play not oneof the senior cast will ever forget. But now it was ready and the timewas ripe for the grand performance. In two days it was to take place. 

The next morning, in response to the telegram, the three friends metMolly's brother and sister at the station. They were a good lookingpair, as Nance pronounced them, but not the least like Molly. Minnie orMildred Brown was as pretty as Molly in her way. She had an aquilinenose that spoke of family, brown hair curling bewitchingly about herface and a beautifully modeled mouth and chin. Kent was different, too--tall with gravely humorous gray eyes, his mouth rather large andshapely, his nose a little small--but he was very handsome and hismanners were perfection. He took to Judy at once. She amused andmystified him and she volunteered after lunch to show him all the sightsof Wellington. Another visitor at Wellington was Jimmy Lufton, who hadcome down to see the celebration regardless of work and expenses, andordered Molly a beautiful bouquet of narcissus to be handed to her whenshe appeared as Rosalind. 

Molly introduced him to Kent and Minnie and the three were soon goodfriends and looking for the best places along the campus to see thesights, while Molly rushed off to attire herself for the morning as aMaypole dancer. Old Wellington presented a strange and unusual aspect onthat beautiful May morning. Far back under the trees gathered the peopleof the pageant waiting for the cue to start the march. Carts drawn byyokes of oxen rumbled along the avenue, filled with rustics from thecountry, mostly freshmen dressed in all manner of early Englishcostumes. There were shepherds and shepherdesses, maids of low and highdegree. Gentlemen of the court and plow boys in smock frocks elbowedeach other on the green. Booths had been set up of a seventeenth centurypattern, where anachronisms in the form of modern refreshments weresold. 

Bands of singers and rustic dancers trooped by, jesters in cap andbells, page boys and trumpeters. A more animated and brilliantly coloredscene would be difficult to imagine. 

Providence had smiled on Wellington's Jubilee and sent a glorious dayfor the May Day Festival. It was an early spring and everything thatcould do honor to the day had burst into blossom: daffodils thatbordered the lawns of the campus houses nodded their delicate yellowheads in the morning sunlight; clumps of lilac bushes formed bouquets ofpurple and white and from an occasional old apple tree showers of pinkpetals fell softly on the grass. 

"It's almost as beautiful as Kentucky, Kent, " observed Mildred Brown, and Jimmy Lufton laughed joyfully. 

"Almost, but not quite, " he said. "In Kentucky there would be twice asmuch of everything, and, besides the elms, there would be beech treesand maples with a good sprinkling of walnut and locust. "

"Twice as many Mildreds, too, " observed Kent. "But for my part I thinkthe young ladies I have seen here are quite as pretty as the girls athome. "

"I think you'd have a hard time finding two to match Miss Molly and MissMildred, " put in Jimmy, looking with admiration at the charming Mildred, dressed in a cool white linen, a broad brimmed straw hat trimmed withpink roses shading her face. 

"There's Miss Judy Kean, " argued Kent. 

What would this young man have thought if at that moment he could havehad a glimpse of the fair Judy dressed as a court gentleman in lavendersatin knickers, a long cape of purple velvet, an immense cavalier hatwith a great plume and over her shapely mouth a flaring yellowmustachio?

And all of our other friends, how strange and unnatural they seemed. Their most intimate friends would scarcely have recognized them. Margaret was a fat, jolly Falstaff, stuffed out to immense proportions. Edith was entirely disguised as a jester and enjoyed her own quipsimmensely when she tapped a visitor on the shoulder with her bauble andsaid, "Good morrow, fair maid, art looking for a swain?"

And now four little heralds advanced down the campus bearing longtrumpets, antique in shape, on which the sun sparkled brilliantly. Atthe center of the campus they paused and blew four long resonant blastsand then cried in one voice:

"Make way for their Majesties, the King and Queen, and all the RoyalCourt. " And the pageant began to unwind its sinuous length along thecampus lawn, and all the rustic players who formed the rabble fell inbehind the royal personages and their brilliant train. 

It was really a wonderfully beautiful picture, one to be rememberedalways with pride by Wellingtonians and with pleasure by outsiders whohad gathered by the hundreds on the lawn. After the pageant came the Maypole dancers and the wandering musicians, the Morality Play and therustic dances. 

There were hundreds of things to see. Mildred Brown, rushing from onecharming performance to another, felt almost as if it really was an oldEnglish May Day Festival. The spirit of the actor rustics pervaded herand she was full of excitement and wonder at the whole marvelousperformance. 

At last the entire company gathered in front of the now historic site ofQueen's Cottage and there amid the shrubbery and the tall old foresttrees the seniors gave their performance of "As You Like It. "

"I don't believe Marlowe and Sothern could do it a bit better, "exclaimed Mildred proudly. "Aren't they wonderful?"

"Isn't Miss Molly wonderful?" said Jimmy Lufton. 

"Yes, indeed, I am proud of my little sister to-day, prouder than everof her. "

A man in a gray suit fanning himself with a straw hat turned around andlooked at Mildred curiously. His face was lined with fatigue, for nobodyhad worked harder than he over the Festival. But he was not too tired tobe interested in Mildred Brown. 

"So they are the brother and sister, " he said to himself. "And a verygood-looking pair they are. I must try and meet them to-morrow. Ask themto tea in the Quadrangle. Miss Molly would like that, I think. But notthat young Lufton, " he added half angrily. "Not that young buccaneeringnewspaper fellow. "

"Professor Green, " said Mrs. McLean, standing next to him, "I think weowe most of the success of this day to you. But how about that charmingRosalind? Did you train her to act so prettily?"

"No, " he replied, "I couldn't do that. It's in her already. One has onlyto bring it out. "

Among the flowers which were handed over the row of potted cedars toMolly after that charming performance was a big bunch of yellowdaffodils, and tied to the yellow ribbon was a large yellow apple. 

"You've won your second golden apple to-day, Miss Molly, and I am proudof my pupil, " read the card attached. 

CHAPTER XXI. 

FAREWELLS. 

The rest of the time until graduation was like a dream to Molly and herfriends whose hearts were filled with a sort of two-prongedhomesickness; homesickness for home and for Wellington, which now theywere about to leave forever more. 

A great many things happened in the space that intervened between thefirst of May and the eighteenth of June, when graduation occurred. Therewere dances at Exmoor and dances at Wellington and the senior receptionto the juniors. Then there were long quiet evenings when the old crowdgathered in No. 5 and talked of the future. 

It was on one of these warm summer nights that they were draped as usualabout the couches in the mellow glimmer of one Japanese lantern. Judy, thrumming on the guitar, sang:

 "'When all the world is young, lad, And all the trees are green; And every goose a swan, lad, And every lass a queen; Then hey for boot and horse, lad, And round the world away; Young blood must have its course, lad, And every dog his day. 

 "'When all the world is old, lad, And all the trees are brown; And all the sport is stale, lad, And all the wheels run down; Creep home and take your place there, The spent and maimed among: God grant you find one face there, You loved when all was young. '"

"My, that makes me sad, " said Jessie. "I feel that I've already lived mylife and am coming back to old Wellington to die with a lot of otherdecrepit old persons who used to be young and beautiful. "

"Thanks for the compliment about looks, " said Edith. "But I don't feelthat way. I'm going forth to conquer. I am going to write books andbooks before I come home to die. "

"I'm going to write books, too, " announced Molly meekly, "but I feelthat I'm not ready to begin yet----"

"You can't begin too young, " interrupted Edith. 

"I know, but I'm coming back for a post grad. Course in"--Mollyhesitated, she hardly knew why--"in English and--and a few other things. I've got no style----"

"What, are you really coming back?" they cried. 

"Nance and I have decided to return, " replied Molly. "We are not readyto join the ranks yet, are we, Nance? Dear Nance is going to polish upher French literature. I'll be busy enough. I expect to do a lot oftutoring and other profitable work. "

"What shall I do?" groaned Judy. "I don't want to study any more, and, yet, how can I bear for you two to be at Wellington without me to botheryou. "

Molly looked at her and smiled. 

"Remember, you are to come home with me this summer, Judy, and maybeyou'll like Kentucky so well you'll want to stay there. "

Molly was well aware that her brother Kent had fallen in love with Judyat first sight, and it didn't occur to her that anybody could resist thecharms of her favorite brother. 

"Margaret, why don't you come back?" asked Nance. 

"Not me, " answered Margaret. "I hear the voice of suffrage calling!"

"We all of us hear voices calling, " broke in Katherine. "And each is adifferent voice according to our natures. Now Margaret's voice issoprano, but Jessie hears a deep baritone----"

"Nothing of the sort, " cried Jessie. 

"'Fess up, now, Jessie, when is it to be?"

The girls all gathered around pretty Jessie and at last, hard pressed, she said:

"When it does come off you'll have to assemble from the four quarters ofthe globe to act as bridesmaids, but the day's not set yet. "

"Have you decided on the man?" asked Edith. 

"Edith, how can you?" answered Jessie, laughing. 

"What are you going to do, Katherine?" asked Molly, when the excitementhad quieted down. 

"Teach, " answered Katherine bluntly. "I loathe the thing, but a placeawaits me, so I suppose next winter will find me sitting behind a littletable, ringing a bell sharply, and saying, 'Now, girls, pay attention, please. '" She turned her large melancholy eyes on her sister. "Ediththinks she's the only writer in the family, but in the intervals ofteaching I intend to surprise her. I've already had one short storyaccepted by an obscure but _bona fide_ magazine which hasn't sent me acheck yet. "

"Have you heard the joke on Katherine?" put in Edith. 

"Do tell, " they cried, while Katherine said fiercely: "Now, Edith, youpromised to keep that a secret. "

"It's too good to keep. She chose for the subject of her graduatingessay 'The Juvenile Delinquent, ' and got it all written and then itoccurred to her that Miss Walker would announce 'The JuvenileDelinquent, Katherine Williams, ' and she could not stand theimplication. "

"Poor Katherine, " they cried, laughing joyously. 

And now Molly was handing around nut cake and cloud bursts, it seemedalmost for the last time, and after that these bright spirits in kimonosflitted away to their rooms. 

A little later, after darkness and quiet had descended, an ecstaticlittle giggle broke from Judy, lying alone and staring at the dimoutline of her window. It was too soft a sound to disturb the tiredsleepers in the adjoining rooms, but it meant that Judy had an idea, --anidea that she could see already realized by the aid of her remarkableimagination. 

Her mind had been reviewing the talk of the evening and revolving abouteach of the girls in turn;--Edith and Katherine and Molly, literary andambitious; Nance, serious and studious; Jessie, pretty, romantic anddestined for marriage; and Margaret, the able and willing champion ofsuffrage. And Judy had smiled as she began to recall certain hours whenMargaret's enthusiasm had waxed high, even so far back as Freshman year, and her first class presidency. That thought had started others, and asJudy remembered various amusing incidents of the four years, her "idea"had flashed upon her. It was then that Judy had hugged herself andlaughed aloud, but it was several nights later that she shared with theother girls her inspiration. 

They had gathered in Otoyo's little room that night, --just the eightclose friends who now grasped every opportunity for one more good timetogether. They were a little inclined to sadness, for they had all beenbusy with those extra duties that point directly to the closing days ofcollege life. 

Some had posed before the class photographer's camera, some had bornethe weariness of having gowns fitted, and at least two had practicedtheir parts for the commencement exercises. 

Margaret and Jessie were humming the chorus of one of the Senior classsongs and Otoyo was just beginning to make the tea, when Judy slippedout of the room with a word of excuse and a promise to return. 

Molly turned lazily to Nance who sat close beside her on the couch andwhispered, "Judy is as nervous as a witch these days. She has probablythought of something to add to her list!"

"Oh, that list!" returned Nance. "She has everything on it now fromwhite gloves to a trunk strap, and still it grows!"

"'Seniors, seniors, seniors, '" chanted Margaret and Jessie dreamily, watching Otoyo as she deftly arranged her dainty cups and saucers onbeautiful lacquered trays. 

Edith and Katherine were quietly disputing some point about the classprogram and absent-mindedly accepting lemon for their tea, when the dooropened and a woman draped closely in black stepped into the room. 

"Ah, ha, young ladies, " she cried in a high, weird voice that startledthem into instant silence, "so you would pierce the mysterious veil ofthe future and read in your teacups the fortune that awaits you? Couldyou but possess my occult vision, you would not need to employ suchpuerile methods. "

Here the somber figure raised two black-gloved arms and held before hereyes a pair of plain black opera glasses. She had reversed their usualposition and now gazed steadily about the room through the large end ofthe glasses. 

"Ah, ha, " she began again, fixing her roving attention upon Margaret, who returned her gaze easily, "I see far, far away, through a vista ofcrowded seats, a huge platform adorned with distinguished figures. Apretty woman stunningly gowned is introducing to a breathlesslyexpectant audience a tall, striking person. The plaudits of themultitude drown the sound of her name as it is announced, but our keensight enables us to recognize the famous Miss Wakefield! To those whohave long known her, it will not be surprising to learn that hercompanion is none other than her college satellite, now MissJessie, --but I cannot quite pronounce the unfamiliar name. "

As the voice stopped for a moment, Jessie started toward the strangefigure, but Margaret pulled her back and drew her blushing face downupon her own shoulder. 

At the same time Molly cried, "Where have I seen those shabby oldglasses before?"

And Nance added, "My old bird glasses, or I'm blind!"

Nothing daunted, the prophetess went on in the same weird key, "I seethe gray towers of Wellington looming grandly against a wild autumnalsky. I see troops of girls crowding across the campus and intorecitation rooms. I see a single figure walking beside the white-hairedPresident as though discussing the schedule of lectures and the meritsof students, and the figure is that of Miss Oldham, --dear old Nance!"And the voice of the soothsayer broke suddenly as she turned the glasseson Nance and Molly. 

Then she hurried on, "By forcing my keen vision to its utmost capacity, I am able to read upon certain profound text books the names of theirjoint compilers, Edith and Katherine Williams, the world-famed writers!"

Again the voice paused as the glasses were leveled at the friendlydisputants, long since quieted by the eloquence of the seer. 

All this time Otoyo had stood spellbound beside her teapot. Now shestarted slightly as the glasses glimmered in her direction. 

"Oh, no, no, no, " she cried in real distress. "Don't tell me, please, Mees Kean!"

At that, Judy flung the draperies back from her hair, the glasses toNance, and her arms about Otoyo, exclaiming at the same moment:

"You precious child, I don't know any more than your little Buddha doesabout your future, but the gods will be good to you and we'll leave itto them. "

CHAPTER XXII. 

THE FINAL DAYS. 

Now as suddenly as she had tossed aside her head coverings, Judy droppedher long loose cloak upon the floor and stood revealed clad in motleyraiment indeed. In an instant all that she had said was forgotten as thegirls crowded around examining her curiously. 

"Why, Judy Kean, where _did_ you find that old necktie?" cried Molly, asshe spied a long familiar article fastened at Judy's throat. 

"And my Russian princess muff!" exclaimed Nance. "It was hidden with mytreasures at the very bottom of my trunk!"

"And do I not behold my favorite Shelley?" chimed in Edith, seizing abook that dangled by a cord from Judy's waist. 

"And I--surelee it is my veree ancient kimono that hangs behind?"inquired Otoyo curiously. 

"I have it, " announced judicial Margaret "Judy Kean is now a symbol. Sherepresents _us_. Upon her noble person she carries the intimatesouvenirs of our various stages of collegiate growth. Yea, verily, Irecognize mine own. "

With that, Margaret tried to claim a gorgeous yellow pennant thatflaunted its aggressive motto in a panel-like arrangement on Judy'sdress. 

Judy dodged Margaret's attempt and lifting her hand dramaticallyexclaimed in oratorical tones:

"You have guessed. I am indeed the spirit of our college days. Irepresent History, and the tokens that I wear mark the incidents ofhumor, pathos, and tragedy that were the crises in our young careers. You will pardon me, I know, when I tell you that I have rummagedreverently among your personal 'estates, ' as Otoyo used to say, seeing, touching, disturbing none but the significant articles before you. Behold the history of these departing years!"

As Judy swung slowly about before their interested eyes, somethingchinked and clinked gently, like glass meeting glass. Molly's long armshot out and grasped the jingling articles. A not-to-be-suppressed shoutbroke forth as she displayed a china pig and a small bottle ofblue-black fluid labeled "Hair-dye, --black. "

"Oh, Judy, Judy, " cried Molly, "if you haven't discovered _another_Martin Luther, the ghost of the hero of my Junior days! Give him to meand I will feed him faithfully next year, --by the slow earnings of mypen, I will!"

Meanwhile, Jessie was laughing over the tell-tale bottle of hair-dye, and secretly every one was rejoicing that Judy, too, could look backupon that supremely foolish escapade and laugh as heartily as any ofthem at her own expense. 

And now Nance claimed her muff, --the one survivor of the threecotton-batting masterpieces made for the skating carnival of Sophomoreyear, --and as she thrust her hands inside, they encountered a long, hardobject. She drew it out and with a flourish waved above her head aclean, meatless but unmistakable ham bone!

The laugh was directed toward Molly now, and to turn it again sheexclaimed, "What do I see gleaming upon your finger, Judy Kean? Verily, upon the third finger of your left hand?"

Immediately the girls joined in the cry, chanted like a deep-tonedschool yell, "Tell us! Tell us! Tell us!"

"'Well, it was lent to me. It's not mine. I simply promised to wear itfor a few months, '" quoted Judy, imitating Jessie's own protestingexplanation so cleverly that even Otoyo recognized the source. "But itis only a five-cent diamond!" added Judy, shaking her head solemnly. "Imight lose it, you know, and it would take more than a steely inspectorto locate it in a man's deep coat pocket!"

The girls cast sly glances at Molly, but she was intent on anotherdiscovery. Hanging under Edith's shabby copy of Shelley was her ownbeloved Rossetti! Instantly she forgot the girls and their fun and sawfor one fleeting moment a series of quickly moving mental pictures. First there flashed before her that Christmas when Professor Green hadgiven her the little volume. Then she saw herself in the cloisters lostin the beauty of "The blessed damozel, " when he had appeared sounexpectedly. And finally she realized suddenly how much she loved thelittle worn volume and how she should always keep it to comfort andinspire her. 

"'_Come--back--to me, Sweetheart_, '" sang Judy teasingly, and Molly cameback with a start, only just realizing that she had been day-dreaming. 

"What is this spiky thing that pricks through the folds of my agedsweater?" asked Katherine, who had recognized an old blue sweater thatJudy wore draped from her waist like a pannier. 

"This, " replied Judy, "is a bud that grew on a twig that grew on a bushthat grew from the ground that marks the resting place of the ashes ofQueen's, and to you, Katherine, as true historian of our noble class, doI present it. "

"In the name of futurity, I accept it, " replied Katherine, not to beoutdone in formality. 

"And now to appease the cravings of the inner man, permit me to sharewith you the contents of this hamper, " continued Judy, opening a smallbasket that she carried on her arm. "Although not the original, lost-but-not-forgotten snakey-noodles, these are the best imitationsthat Madeleine Petit could make. And Molly the cook has contributed oncemore some of her justly famed cloud bursts, an indispensable exhibit inthis unequaled historical collection!"

Warm and breathless, Judy sat down and began to remove her borrowedplumes, while the girls, each holding aloft a snakey-noodle and a cloudburst, chanted appreciatively, "What's the matter with Julia Kean?_She's all right!_"

 * * * * *

Graduation at Wellington was old-fashioned and conventional. The girlgraduates in white dresses filed onto the platform and took their seatsin a semi-circle. Those who were so fortunate as to have relatives andfriends in the large audience searched for their intimate features inthe sea of upturned, interested faces. As glances met, smiles werefleetingly exchanged but quickly subdued on the part of the girls as thedignity of the day was borne in upon them anew. 

President Walker, never more sweet and womanly than in the formal attiredemanded by her position, unconsciously inspired them all to imitate herfine simplicity and grace of manner. Tears sprang to the eyes of manygirls as they looked at her and realized as never before that she hadbeen the real center of all that had been best and most lasting in theircollege life. The girls who were to read essays, resolved that for thePresident's sake they would do well in spite of trembly knees and shakyhands. And of course they did, because in their determination to pleaseMiss Walker and to reflect credit upon her and dear old Wellington theyquite lost their paralyzing self-consciousness. The little buzz ofpleased conversation that followed each number of the program as theapplause died down was gratifying without doubt, but the students caredmore deeply for the President's brief nod and smile of satisfaction. After the exercises came the diplomas, those strips of sheepskin forwhich our girls had striven so long and valiantly. It was almost a shockto clasp at last that precious token that had seemed so difficult ofachievement in the far-away Freshman days. If to Molly it meant amongother things value received for "two perfectly good acres of orchard, "to Nance it marked a milestone of happy progress; to Margaret, Edith andKatharine it represented an interesting bit of current history; and toJudy and Jessie it signified a safe haven after many narrow escapesfrom shipwreck. 

After the exciting day was over, came the class supper and theneverybody did stunts. Edith read the class poem and Katherine washistorian. Then the oldest girl and the prettiest girl and the classbaby made speeches, and at the end came three cheers for Molly Brown, the most beloved in 19--; and Molly, trembling and blushing, rose andthanked them all and assured them that it was the greatest honor she hadever known; and they made her sit on the table while they danced in acircle around it, singing:

 "Here's to Molly Brown, Drink her down, drink her down, drink her down. "

Thus the four years at Wellington came to an end as all good thingsmust, and the day for the parting arrived. The "Primavera" and theprayer rug were packed away in a box and shipped to Kentucky, because, after all, Molly might not return to Wellington. Who could tell whatthe fates had in store? Then came the good-byes. There were tears intheir eyes and little choky sounds in their voices as they kissed andhugged and kissed again. 

Otoyo at that last meeting gave a present to each of the old crowd. Shewas smiling bravely, since it is not correct for a young Japanese ladyto weep, and she kept reiterating:

"I shall mees you, greatlee, muchlee. It will not be the same atWellington. "

With Molly's gift, a little carved ivory box, Otoyo handed a letter. 

"I promised to deliver it on the last day, " she said. 

"That sounds a good deal like the Judgment Day, " said Molly, laughing, as she tore open the envelope. The letter read:

 "The Campus Ghost and the Thief of Lunches has learned from you what nobody ever told her before: that honesty's the best policy. I suppose I always enjoyed the other way because I never was found out. But being found out is different. Honest people who have nothing to conceal are the happiest. I know that now, and henceforth the open and above-board for me. 

 "Yours, ADELE WINDSOR. "

Molly rolled the paper into a little ball and threw it away. Certainlythe note of repentance did not sound very strong in Adele's letter. Butperhaps it was only her way of putting it, and to be honest for anyreason, no matter how remote from the right one, was something. 

"Anyhow, I hope she will think it's best policy to be nice to her poor, hard-working mother, " she thought indignantly. 

But Adele had already passed out of the lives of the Wellington girlsand none of them ever saw her again. She did not return to college tofinish out the senior course, and the hoodoo suite was dismantledforever of her fine trappings and furniture. 

"I have one more good-bye to say, girls, " said Molly to her friends alittle while before train time. "I'll meet you at the archway. "

"You'll miss the train, " called Nance. 

"And that would just spoil everything, " cried Judy. 

The three friends had planned to travel as far as Philadelphia together. There Nance would leave them to join her father, and Molly and Judywould continue their journey toward Kentucky. 

But Molly was already running down the corridor, suitcase in one handand jacket in the other. 

Down the steps she flew and out into the court toward the little doorwhich opened into the cloisters. Another dash and she was knocking onProfessor Green's door. 

"Come in, " he called, and she flew into the room breathlessly. 

"I came to say good-bye again, " she said. "I've only five minutes. "

"Sit down, " he said, drawing up a chair. 

"I wanted to ask you, " she went on, "if you wouldn't come to Kentucky tovisit us this summer and--and see your property. "

"How do you know it would be convenient for your mother to have me?"

"Because it is always convenient for mother to entertain friends, andthis is really her very own suggestion. Our house is big and besidesthat we have an office outside with three bedrooms for overflow. "

The Professor looked thoughtful. Perhaps he was already forming apicture in his mind of the hammock beside the brook and the shadyorchard, his orchard. 

"You will promise to come, won't you?" persisted Molly. 

"Do you really want me?" he asked. 

"Indeed, indeed I do. "

"Perhaps, " he answered. 

"Good-bye, then, " she said, "or rather _au revoir_, " and they claspedhands while the Professor looked down into Molly's eyes and smiled. 

He moved to the door like a sleep-walker and held it open for her as shehurried out. Then he went back to his desk and sat down in a sort oftrance. The next instant the door was flung open again, footstepshurried across the room and two arms slipped over his shoulders. 

"Do you remember what I said I was going to do some time to that oldgentleman who bought the orchard?" said Molly's voice over his head. "Isaid I'd just give him a good hug. "

For one instant the arms held him tightly, a cheek was laid lightly onhis thin reddish hair and then she was gone, flying down the corridor. 

"I suppose she regards me as an old gentleman, " he said resignedly, laying his hand softly on the spot where her cheek had touched. 

As for Molly, she had a sudden thought that almost stopped her headlongcourse:

"What _would_ Miss Alice Fern think if she knew!"

[Illustration: Good-bye to Wellington and the old happy days. --_Page_303. ]

The girls were calling impatiently when Molly reached the arch, and inthree minutes the crowded bus moved down the avenue. 

"Good-bye! Good-bye!" called many voices. 

"Good-bye! Good-bye!" echoed the few students who were going to take alater train. 

Good-bye to Wellington and the old happy days! Good-bye to theQuadrangle and the Cloisters! Good-bye to all the dear familiar hauntsand faces. 

Every one of the girls felt the hour of parting keenly, but to two ofMolly's friends at least there came an additional pang. They had knownno happier home; no other place held for them such close associations. Nance, pale and silent, and Judy, feverish and excited, turned theireyes lingeringly toward the twin gray towers. But Molly, her facetransfigured by some secret happy thought, looked southward down theavenue toward Kentucky and home!

 * * * * *

The class prophecy which Judy had extemporized on the evening of herappearance as "History" may have had some promise of fulfillment, but itwill be remembered that Otoyo's timely interruption saved her fromguessing at the most puzzling future of all. It remains, therefore, for"Molly Brown's Post-Graduate Days" to reveal what Dame Fortune had instore for the girl of many possibilities, Molly Brown of Wellington andKentucky. 

THE END. 

 +------------------------------------------------+ |Transcriber's Note: | | | |The illustration with the caption "Molly Glanced| |Back. Sure Enough, the Phantom ... Was Running | |Behind Them--_Page_ 198. " was not available for | |inclusion in this ebook. | +------------------------------------------------+