pression left neither young face.

Matters continued thus all through school. Monty was worse than ordinary
in the matter of lessons, and that was saying much. Katharine, having
had better advantages, stood far in advance of her class, so had no need
to study, and kept her slips of paper in her book all the time she sat
at her desk. She was not a rapid writer and she certainly had a deal of
writing to do. At recess the before-school performance was repeated; and
when the truants, Bob and Ned, disappeared in the direction of the
"Eddy" after "noonin'," Monty failed to send one regretful glance
thither. He was more occupied in watching the face of the clock than
anything else, and as soon as dismissal-bell rang, darted from the
schoolroom as if propelled by a gun. Just then, too, the first warning
notes of Reuben Smith's horn came floating through the trees and down
the street, and thereafter all that was seen of the boy was a pair of
heels vanishing in air.

"Why, what in the world ails Monty? And say, Katy, didn't you like your
turnover?" asked Martha Turner, drawing near to her heroine and showing
that she felt somewhat aggrieved.

"Oh, Monty's all right. He--Don't you worry. You'll all know sometime.
And didn't I eat it?"

"Yes. You ate it fast enough, but you didn't say whether you liked it or
not. I think ma, she--"

"Oh, you dear thing! Of course I liked it; and please make my regards to
your mother and tell her that I thank her very much. It was the nicest
turnover I ever had, and--and it was the first one."

To an older mind this might not have been so convincing an argument, but
it satisfied Martha. She considered that Katharine Maitland had the
"perfectly sweetest manner of any girl in the world," and was daily
trying to improve her own by the pattern set. "Make my regards." She had
never heard that phrase before, but it impressed her as very stately and
"Miss Eunicey," so put it away in her memory for future use. She was
further delighted by Katharine's begging her and Mary to walk home with
her, as far as they went her way, for she had something to talk over
with them.

But when she revealed this "something" it proved not so much after all.
She merely inquired exactly how many boys and girls there were in their
school and out of it. "I want to get the name of every single child that
isn't more than sixteen years old. As much younger as you please, but
older than that would be grown-ups. At least, they