zabeth. Slipping them into
the tray of the trunk, she turned to the mirror to arrange her collar. At
last turning to Mary, she said, "There, I'm clothed and in my right mind,
and we yet have half an hour. Now we must report to Dr. Morgan."

"You are evidently clothed," was the response, "but I'm not sure about the
right mind. Don't you remember that Dr. Morgan does not return until
to-night? By that time we will be home. I'll speak to Miss Brosius as we
go down to lunch. She's the high-monkey-monk here when our Ph. D. is
roaming. We have no time to waste. Jordan will see to the trunks and
tickets. He always does. Put on your wraps. We'll eat our lunch with them
on. It is no use coming back up-stairs. There are but few of the girls
left. We'll bid them goodbye down-stairs."

It was not until then that Elizabeth had time to think about going to
Mary's home. Then she stopped and suddenly put the question: "Perhaps your
mother will not want me, Mary. She--"

"Come on! Of course, she'll want you. She is always glad to have company.
She would not be pleased if I came home and left you here alone."

"But it might inconvenience her," she began again.

"Nothing ever inconveniences my mother. She won't allow it to. The only
trouble we have is that our girls take sudden notions to go off and marry,
and sometimes we do not have anyone to do the work. I think Fanny intended
being married during the holidays. If she does, you and I will have a
position as dishwasher. Can you wash dishes?"

"Yes; I always do at home."

"Well, we may have to do it. But we will have a good time. When the
servants take to themselves wings we all help, and such fun as we do have!
A little matter like that never inconveniences mother. Once during court
week, our only hotel burned. There was a big case on before father, and he
brought all the witnesses and lawyers home. They were there three days.
Mother seemed to think it was a joke." Then with a look at Elizabeth, she
added with conviction, "A little bit of a girl like _you_ could not
inconvenience _her_."

The Wilson home was at Windburne, a two hours' ride from Exeter with a
change of cars at Ridgway.

It was extremely cold when the girls left the Hall, but before they
reached Ridgway the mercury had gone several degrees lower.

The road to Windburne from the Ridgway junction is a local affair, narrow
gauge, with little rocking cars in which a tall person could scarcely
stand upright. Windbur