years
delighted in the thought that she was doing something which might not be
approved; indeed, from her standpoint, would be decidedly criticised, and
to get ahead of a teacher had been the "slogan" of the Carter school.

It was the custom at Sunny Bank for the teachers to go around to the
girls' rooms during the study hour to help, suggest, or give a little
"boost" over the hummocky places, so when a pleasant voice asked at the
door: "Can I help you any, dearies?" Cicely answered from her room:

"Oh, Miss Howard, will you please tell me something about this problem? I
am afraid my head is muddled."

"To be sure, I will," was the cheery reply, and Miss Howard passed through
Toinette's room to Cicely's.

As she did so her dress created a current of air which carried a paper
from Toinette's desk almost to her feet. She stooped to pick it up and
hand it back to Toinette, who had sprung up to catch it, and, as she
handed it to her, Miss Howard noted the telltale color spring into the
girl's face.

"Zephyrus is playing you tricks, dear," she said, smiling, and passed on
to Cicely. After giving her the needed assistance, she left them, and a
little further down the corridor met Miss Preston.

"How are my chicks progressing, Miss Howard?"

"Nicely, Miss Preston. Cicely needed a little help with a problem in
algebra, but I think Toinette needs a little of yours in the problem of
life," and Miss Howard went her way.

A word to the wise is sufficient.

Meanwhile, the letter was finished, addressed, and slipped into Toinette's
pocket, to be mailed later.

Ordinarily, all letters were placed in a small basket to be carried to the
office by the porter. As Toinette came down the hall shortly before dinner
Miss Preston was just taking the letters from the basket to place them in
the porter's mailbag.

"Any mail to go, dear?" she asked.

"No, thank you, Miss Preston," answered Toinette, and, jumping from the
last step, ran off down the hall to join Cicely and the other girls. In
jumping from the step something jolted from her pocket, but, falling upon
the heavy rug at the foot of the stairs, made no sound. As the porter was
about to take the pouch from her hands Miss Preston's eyes fell upon the
letter, and, supposing it to be one which had been dropped from the
basket, stooped to pick it up. She was a quick-witted woman, and the
instant she saw the handwriting and the address she drew her own
conclusions.

"So that