ine's, but continually fell in her eyes. As she spoke
she put her hat on the step and proceeded to adjust the round comb she
wore.

"The Whittredge girl. Have you seen her, Belle?" asked Charlotte Ellis.

"No; what is she like?"

"Katherine is the only one who has seen her; she says she is lovely."

"Oh, she is! You ought to see her, Belle. Maurice and I peeped through the
hedge and saw her walking to and fro studying something. And her name is
Rosalind. Isn't that a beautiful name?"

"I don't believe she is much," Belle announced, with a turn of her head.
The only reason she had for saying this was the naughty one of wishing to
snub Katherine, who took everything in earnest and now looked crestfallen.

"Never mind, Kit; tell us some more about her," urged one of the others.

"Grandmamma says she is surprised at Mrs. Whittredge's having her here.
You know she would have nothing to do with her son after he married, until
lately, and she never saw her granddaughter before, I think family
quarrels are awfully interesting; don't you?" As Charlotte spoke, the
bell rang, and the girls turned toward the house.

"Do you, Charlotte?" exclaimed Katherine, who was accustomed to pin her
faith to her friend's opinions, but thought that quarrels being wrong
could not be interesting.

"I think so, too. They are so delightfully mysterious," echoed another of
the girls.

"Nonsense! What is there that is mysterious?" put in pugnacious Belle.

It may have been the alluring summer day, or the fact that it was near the
end of the term, and discipline had relaxed, but certain it was that a
general restlessness and inclination to whisper pervaded the study hour.
It was the fashion among the girls to adore Celia. Fair, and usually she
had no difficulty in keeping order, but this morning even her presence was
without effect.

Belle Parton had her history propped up before her in a way that suggested
some mischief going on behind its shelter, rather than any serious study.
Katherine, who was honestly trying to study, was distracted by the signals
flying around her. Charlotte Ellis, whose seat was near the window,
seemed principally occupied in peeping between the sash curtains.

Celia had looked up for the second time to say, "Girls, I must have better
order," and things had for several minutes quieted down, when Charlotte
suddenly announced in a loud whisper, "Here they come!" and with that
there was a rush for the windows.

The