no news was good news, took it for granted that the difficulty had been
amicably settled.

A week later, in company with Mary Wilson, she set forth to visit Mrs.
Gleason. From Exeter to Gleasonton is only an hour's ride. At the station,
they found a sleigh with a coachman and footman waiting to convey them to
Senator Gleason's home.

"It is the prettiest place in summer," said Mary, as they went flying over
the snow-packed roads. "Everything is so beautiful that you can really
believe it is fairyland."

On their way, they passed several stately country residences, closed for
the winter. Then came acres and acres of bark-sheds filled with bark for
the tanneries; then the tanneries themselves. Then, at a distance, upon
the brow of the hill were seen the stone walls of Senator Gleason's home.

"Isn't it beautiful?" whispered Elizabeth, as though should she speak
aloud the spell would be broken, and the place, like Aladdin's palace,
vanish in the air.

"Wait until you see it in summer, with all the vines and beautiful trees,"
was the response.

They turned into the driveway, and in a few minutes were brought to the
front entrance. At the sound of the bells, the door opened and Senator
Gleason appeared, smiling and affable, to welcome them, and following him
was his wife.

Elizabeth gave a start of surprise. Although more richly dressed than when
she had seen her before, Elizabeth recognized in her the plain little
woman with whom she had eaten lunch on her journey to Exeter.

CHAPTER VII.

DEFYING THE POWERS.

Both Fraulein Kronenberg and Dr. Kitchell announced tests for the week
before the Christmas holidays. The Seniors and Middlers arose early and
stayed up late to study. The hour for physical exercise was cut as short
as Miss Brosins would permit. There was little time for anything that was
purely social. There was no lingering in the hall after meals for chats.
Carrie Hirsch was the only one who had leisure after Miss Kronenberg's
announcement. She laughed as the girls hurried back to their rooms.
"German is not so hard," she explained. "What one thinks one must say--so
simple are the words. Not at all can I understand why they all look so
like a frown because Fraulein Kronenberg gives them but one little story
to write in the German."

"Suppose Miss Berard should give you a simple little story to write in
English," returned Mary Wilson. "Wouldn't you look like a frown, too?"

Miss Hirsch shrugg