coiled it around her head like a dull golden coronet. She had
a faint color in her cheeks, and, instead of looking cross and tired,
she was as merry and almost as light-hearted as the girls. The lines
of her head were really beautiful, and her sallow skin was fast
becoming clear and healthy. For once in her life Miss Jones looked no
older than her twenty-six years. Eleanor watched her as she started
off on her walk dressed in white, carrying a red parasol, and decided
that Miss Jones was really pretty. Since her advent among the girls
she had begun to look at life from a different standpoint. She had
almost ceased worrying and she meant to grow well and strong if she
could. Since her mysterious visitor the first night she spent aboard
the boat nothing had happened to disturb her. She walked slowly on, so
occupied with her own thoughts she did not notice that she was in a
lane between two fields enclosed by fences. Some one called to her.
She could not distinguish the voice. It called and called again. She
thought it must be one of the girls who had come out in the field to
meet her. As there was no one looking, Miss Jones managed to climb
over the rail fence, and now she walked in the direction from which the
sound of the voice came. After a time the voice ceased. It was a
shorter stroll to the boat across this field, so the teacher went
leisurely on. In a far corner of the meadow she saw an odd object
unlike anything she had ever seen. It consisted of two sticks that
looked like the legs of a scarecrow which had a square board fastened
in front of them. From between the sticks were two other brown
objects, long and thin, and behind it sat a young man busily engaged in
transferring the peaceful scene to canvas. Miss Jones was gazing
curiously at this object, with her red parasol hung over her shoulder,
so that it was impossible for her to see anything behind her. But she
did hear an unusual noise--a snort, then a bellow--the sound was
unmistakable. With a sense of sickening terror she gave one horrified
glance behind her. She had been mysteriously lured into a field where
a bull was loose. It never occurred to Miss Jones to throw away her
red parasol. She ran on, waving it wildly over her shoulders,
maddening the enraged animal behind her. Miss Jones did not believe
she could run fast. Usually her breath was short, and even a rapid
walk fatigued her. Now she ran on and on. Once again she half