ck excitedly. "_Wait till you hear!_"

As they came to a stop, they were besieged by a crowd of blue-coated
girls. It was afternoon recreation, and the whole school was abroad. The
welcome that she received, would have led an onlooker to infer that
Patty had been gone three months instead of three days. She and her two
postilions descended, and Martin gathered up his reins.

"Come on, youse! All who wants a ride to the stables," was his
hospitable invitation.

It inundated him with passengers. They crowded inside--twice as many as
the hearse would hold--they swarmed over the driver's seat and the
steps; and two equestriennes even perched themselves on the horses'
backs.

"What's the adventure?" demanded Conny and Priscilla in a breath, as the
cavalcade rattled off.

Patty waved her hand toward the suit-case.

"There it is. Take it upstairs. I'll be with you as soon as I've
reported."

"But that isn't your suit-case."

Patty shook her head mysteriously.

"If you tried a thousand years you'd never guess who owns it."

"Who?"

Patty laughed.

"Looks like a man's," said Conny.

"It is."

"Oh, Patty! Don't be so exasperating. Where'd you get it?"

"Just a little souvenir that I picked up. I'll tell you as soon as I've
interviewed the Dowager. Hurry, and slip in while Jelly isn't looking."

They cast a quick glance over their shoulders toward the gymnasium
instructor, who was arguing fat Irene McCullough into faster movements
on the tennis court. Miss Jellings was insistent that "recreation"
should be actively pursued out of doors. The two could easily have
obtained permission to greet Patty's return inside; but it was the
policy of the trio never to ask permission in minor matters. It wasted
one's credit unnecessarily.

Priscilla and Conny turned upstairs lugging the suit-case between them,
while Patty approached the principal's study. Ten minutes later she
joined her companions in Seven, Paradise Alley. They were sitting on the
bed, their chins in their hands, studying the suit-case propped on a
chair before them.

"Well?" they inquired in a breath.

"She says she's glad to see me back, and hopes I didn't eat too much
wedding cake. If my lessons show any falling off--"

"_Who_ owns it?"

"The man with the black eyebrows and the dimple in his chin who sang the
funny songs third from the end on the right hand side."

"Jermyn Hilliard, Junior?" Priscilla asked breathlessly.

"Not really?" Conny