ow get into that
hammock and lie there till dinner-time," and meekly Elizabeth did so.

When, later in the day, some of the younger girls started a game of
blindman's buff, Olga seized Elizabeth's hand. "Come," she said, "we're
going to play too."

"O, I can't! I--I never did," cried the Poor Thing, hanging back.

"I never did either, but I'm going to now and so are you. Come!" and
Elizabeth yielded to the imperative command.

The other girls stared in amazement as the two joined them. It was
little Bess Carroll who smiled a welcome as Louise Johnson cried out,

"Wonders will never cease-_-Olga Priest playing a game!_"

She spoke to Mary Hastings, who answered hastily, "Bless her
heart--she's doing it just to get that Poor Thing to play. Let's take
them right in, girls."

The girls were quick to respond. Olga was the next one caught, and when
she was blinded she couldn't help catching Elizabeth, who stood still,
never thinking of getting out of the way. Elizabeth didn't want the
handkerchief tied over her eyes, but she submitted meekly, at a look
from Olga. Half a dozen girls flung themselves in her way, and the one
on whom her limp grasp fell ignored the fact that Elizabeth could not
name her, and gaily held up the handkerchief to be tied over her own
eyes in turn. Nobody caught Olga again. She was as quick as a flash and
as slippery as an eel. Elizabeth's eyes followed her constantly, and a
little glimmer of a smile touched her lips as Olga slipped safely out of
reach of one catcher after another.

When she pulled Elizabeth out of the noisy merry circle, Olga glanced at
the clock in the dining-room and made a swift calculation.
"Three-quarters of an hour--blindman's buff."

"We've got to play at some game every day, Elizabeth," she announced,
with grim determination. She hated games, but Elizabeth must win her red
beads and the red blood for which they stood. She had undertaken to make
something out of this jellyfish of a girl and she did not mean to fail.
That was all there was about it. So every day she led forth the
reluctant Elizabeth and patiently stood over her while she blundered
through a game of basket-ball, hockey, prisoner's base, or whatever the
girls were playing. But Elizabeth made small progress. Always she barely
stumbled through her part, helped in every way by Olga and often by
other girls who helped her for Olga's sake.

It was Mary Hastings who broke out earnestly one day, looking after