umstances no discredits for tardiness
will be imposed. Seats!"

Instead of proceeding at once with the serving of the meal a few moments
were occupied in chatting, in which guardians and Chief Guardian took an
animated part. Finally, it was decided to go on with the meal. Before
doing so, Mrs. Livingston requested a girl to go to Jane's tent to bring
her. Then Mrs. Livingston bowed her head to say grace.

Her words were interrupted by a lively chatter outside the tent and a loud
laugh. She continued to say grace, but just as she was pronouncing the
concluding words, Crazy Jane tripped into the tent. The girl paused at
the entrance and surveyed her companions quizzically.

"Hello, girls!" she cried. "You're all as solemn as a pack of aged owls at
midday. May I come in?"

There was a titter at her words, then a horrified gasp as the eyes of the
Camp Girls were raised to the face of the new girl.

Jane had appeared in full evening dress. Her gown of old rose messaline
was cut very low in the neck, with mere abbreviations in the way of
sleeves. The skirt was cut "en train," and the frock was far too elaborate
for a girl of her age, even though it had been suitable for the occasion.

A little wave of suppressed giggles rippled over the assemblage as Jane
walked toward the Chief Guardian with easy assurance.

Mrs. Livingston rose and advanced to meet the new girl. There was a
humorous twinkle in the eyes of the Chief Guardian, but her face was
almost stern.

"Isn't she a fright?" muttered Cora.

"The worst I ever saw," agreed Patricia under her breath. "I should like
to see myself making friends with her."

"Young ladies," said Mrs. Livingston, facing the tables. "Permit me to
introduce to you Miss Jane McCarthy of Meadow-Brook. Miss McCarthy has
not been with us long enough to become familiar with our regulations
regarding dress. You will therefore, with me, excuse her somewhat
elaborate costume for this once."

"What's the matter with my gown? Don't you like it?" demanded Jane,
twisting her head sideways for a better view of the general effect of her
costume.

"Thave me! Oh, thave me!" wailed Tommy, dropping her head on the shoulder
of Harriet Burrell.

CHAPTER XV

THE GHOST OF WAU-WAU

A silence so deep that the light breathing of the Camp Girls was plainly
heard, had settled over the interior of the tent. The faces of some of the
girls wore a horrified expression; on the faces of others there we