rawn
low into a diminutive knot at the back. She wore a queer dress, Isabelle
thought, and a fine white kerchief was folded across her breast. This
was her costume always, save on Sunday, when the dress was of silk.

"I hope thee found thy room pleasant, Isabelle," she said as the girls
entered.

"Yes, thanks."

"Thee has a fine view over the hills," Mr. Benjamin said.

Then the other girls trooped in, and Isabelle was introduced to them. A
servant announced supper. Mr. Benjamin gave his arm to Mrs. Benjamin,
and they led the way, followed by the girls, two by two, arm in arm,
across the hall to the dining room. There was an unexpected moment for
Isabelle when everybody bowed the head and offered silent grace. The
supper was plain, but how those girls did eat! Cold meats, baked
potatoes and apple sauce, and cookies disappeared in quantities. Even
the rice pudding had to be served twice all round.

There was talk and laughter. No sense of disorder or noise, but it was
just jolly. Mr. Benjamin at one end of the long table beamed at Mrs.
Benjamin at the other end. They both played a part in the sprightly
give-and-take of the children. It was like a happy family. Isabelle was
silent, taking note of everything. Peggy was sullen.

After supper there was a rush for sweaters.

"Get your coat, Isabelle, and come out. We're going to have a bonfire
to-night. No lessons until to-morrow," shouted a girl named Agnes.

Isabelle started up to get her coat, but on second thoughts she went
back for Peggy.

"Oh, I can't do those things, I tell you. I'm too delicate," whined the
girl.

"It won't hurt thee at all, my dear, if thee wraps up well," said Mrs.
Benjamin.

"I'm never allowed out in the night air----"

"Get thy sweater and come out, little sister. Thee doesn't know this
night air," laughed Mr. Benjamin.

So in the end Peggy allowed herself to be persuaded, and went along.

"Silly, spoiled little minx," commented Mr. Benjamin.

"Oh, we'll soon manage her, my dear, but what about this smouldering
Isabelle with her old eyes?" sighed his wife.

He patted her hand.

"I leave her to thee, my Phoebe."

Outside the moon rode high, the air was crisp and sweet, the silence
unbroken save for the shouts of the girls. The leaves were piled in a
huge mound, in a cleared space some distance from the house. They set a
match to it, and the flames leapt hungry and fierce. The girls formed a
circle and danced around it, singi