y felt a secret relief that Judith had chosen to stay
over the post-office.

As for the incorrigible Judith, she did leave for New York early next
morning and spent the rest of the holidays with her mother and brother.

Molly saw a great deal of the Greens for the next few days. They had tea
together and long walks, and once the Professor read aloud to his sister
and the little girl from Kentucky in the privacy of his own study. Miss
Green and her two brothers left Wellington on New Year's Eve to visit
some cousins in the next county, and still Molly was not lonely, for
Lawrence Upton put in a great deal of time teaching her to skate and
showing Otoyo and her the country around Wellington.

CHAPTER XVIII.

BREAKING THE NEWS.

Mrs. Markham had received due notice that Molly Brown of Kentucky would
be obliged to give up her half of the big room on the third floor at
Queen's. The matron was very sorry. Miss Blount also was moving to other
quarters, she said; but she was too accustomed to the transitory tenants
of Queen's to feel any real grief over sudden departures.

"It only remains to break the news to the others," thought Molly, but
she mercifully determined to wait until after the mid-year examinations.
She was very modest regarding her popularity, but she was pretty sure
that Judy's highly emotional temperament might work itself into a fever
from such a shock. Remembering her last year's experience at mid-years,
Molly guarded her secret carefully until after the great crisis.

At last, however, the fateful moment came. All the Queen's circle was
gathered in that center of hospitality in which Molly had spent so many
happy months. The walls never looked so serenely blue as on that bright
Sunday morning in January, nor the Japanese scroll more alluring and
ornamental. A ray of sunlight filtering through the white dimity
curtains cast a checkered shadow on the antique rug. Even the
imperfections of the old room were dear to Molly's heart now that she
must leave them forever; the spot in the ceiling where the roof had
leaked; the worn place in the carpet where they had sat around the
register, and the mischievous chair with the "game leg" which
precipitated people to the floor unexpectedly.

Everybody was in a good humor.

"There are no shipwrecks on the strand this year," Margaret Wakefield
was saying. "Everybody's safe in harbor, glory be."

"Even me," put in Jessie meekly. "I never thought I'd pull