irls she knew. It was no use struggling with a historical plot
or a romance of the war--she had tried these, and stuck fast in the
first chapters; it was better to employ the material close at hand, and
weave her tale from the every-day incidents which happened in the
school. So she had begun, and though she floundered a little at the
difficulty of transferring her impressions to paper, she was making
distinct progress.

"I'd never dare to have it published, of course," she ruminated. "Still,
it's a beginning, and I shall like to read it over to myself. I think
there are some rather neat bits in it, especially that shot at Addie
and Stephie. How wild they'd be if they knew! But there's no fear of
that. I'll take good care nobody finds out."

When to make time to go on with her literary composition was the
difficulty. It was hard to snatch even an occasional half-hour during
the day. Where there is a will, however, there is generally also a way,
and Ulyth hit upon the plan of getting up very early in the morning and
writing while Rona was still asleep. The Cuckoo never stirred until the
seven o'clock bell rang, when she would awake noisily, with many yawns
and stretchings of arms, so Ulyth flattered herself that her secret was
absolutely safe.

Where to hide the precious papers was another problem. She did not dare
to put them in any of her drawers, her desk would not lock, and her
little jewel-box was too small to contain them.

The fireplace in the bedroom had an old-fashioned chimney-piece that was
fitted with a loose wooden mantel-board, from which hung a border of
needlework. It was quite easy to lift up this board and slip the papers
between it and the chimney-piece; the border completely screened the
hiding-place, and, except at a spring-cleaning, the arrangement was not
likely to be disturbed. Ulyth congratulated herself greatly upon her
ingenuity. It was interesting to have a secret which nobody even
guessed. She often looked at the chimney-piece, and chuckled as she
thought of what lay concealed there.

The days were rapidly closing in now, and the time between tea and
preparation, which only a few weeks ago was devoted to a last game of
tennis or a run by the stream, was perforce spent by the schoolroom
fire. It was only a short interval, not long enough to make any
elaborate occupation worth while, so the girls sat knitting in the
twilight and chatting until the bell rang for evening work.

One afterno