ously in the rear of the group as though never quite able to catch
up.

Marjorie had already imagined much concerning this particular knot of
girls, and her desire to see them again before entering school was
responsible for her walk down Lincoln avenue that sunny fall afternoon.
She would do her errands first, she decided, then, returning by the way
of the school, pass there just at the time that the afternoon session
was dismissed. She went about her far-from-arduous commissions in
leisurely fashion, now and then glancing at her chatelaine watch to make
sure of the time. Three o'clock saw the daily procession of girls down
the high school steps, and released from classes for the day. She did
not intend to miss them.

It was twenty minutes to three when Marjorie finished a remarkable
concoction of nuts, chocolate syrup and ice cream, a kind of glorified
nut sundae, rejoicing in the name of "Sargent Nectar," and left the
smart little confectioner's shop. As she neared the school building her
eyes suddenly became riveted upon a slim, blue-clad figure that
hesitated for on instant at the top of the high steps then ran lightly
down and came hurrying toward where she stood.

"The advance guard," declared Marjorie half aloud. Then, as her eyes
sought the approaching girl: "Why, she looks like Mary! And she's been
crying! I'm going to speak to her." She took an impulsive step forward
as the stranger came abreast of her and began:

"Won't you----"

Marjorie's speech ended abruptly. The weeping girl cast one startled
glance toward her from a pair of wet blue eyes, lunged by her without
speaking and, breaking into a run, turned the corner and disappeared
from view. Marjorie surveyed the back of the rapidly vanishing yellow
head with rueful surprise. Then she gave a short laugh.

"I should have known better," she reflected. "Of course, she'd hardly
care to tell her personal affairs to the first one who asks her. But she
made me think of Mary. Oh, dear, I'm so homesick. Not even my new suit
and hat can make me forget that. I wouldn't have mother know it for the
world. I believe she is a wee bit homesick, too."

Marjorie paused for an instant at her accustomed place on the opposite
side of the street, undecided whether to loiter there and once more
watch her future companions pass out of school or to go on about her
business. Suddenly the school doors swung wide and the pupils began
flocking out. The little stranger yielded