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s tone had a ring. Was it satisfaction? And Rosalie's laugh was touched with gratification, for the notes were official, inviting them, too, to become Platonians. "Thinking it over," said Hattie, "I'll join; one owes something to class-spirit." "It's so alluring--the sound," said Rosalie. "A secret anything." Miss MacLauren, thinking it over, herself, after she reached home that day, suddenly laughed. It was at dinner. Uncle Charlie looked up at his niece, whom he knew as Emmy Lou, not, as yet, having met Miss MacLauren. He had heard her laugh before, but not just that way; generally she had laughed because other people laughed. Now she seemed to be doing it of herself. There is a difference. Emmy Lou was thinking of the changed point of view of Hattie and Rosalie, "It's--it's funny--" she explained, in answer to Uncle Charlie's look. "No!" said Uncle Charlie. "And you see it? Well!" What on earth was Uncle Charlie talking about? "I congratulate you," he continued. "It will never be so hard again." "What?" asked Emmy Lou. "Anything," said Uncle Charlie. What was he talking about? "A sense of humour," said Uncle Charlie, as though one had spoken. Emma Lou smiled absently. Some of Uncle Charlie's joking which she was used to accepting as mystifying. But it was funny about Rosalie and Hattie; she was smiling again, and she felt patronisingly superior to them both. Miss MacLauren was still feeling her superiority as she went to school the next morning. It made her pleased with herself. It was a frosty morning; she drew long breaths, she felt buoyant, and scarcely conscious of the pavements under her feet. At the corner she met William with another boy. She knew this other boy, but that was all; he had never shown any disposition to have her know him better. But this morning things were different. William and the other boy joined her, William taking her books, while they all walked along together. Miss MacLauren felt the boy take a sidewise look at her. Something told her she was looking well, and an intuitive consciousness that the boy, stealing a look at her, thought so too, made Miss MacLauren look better. [Illustration: "At the High School gate Miss MacLauren raised her eyes again."] Her spirits soared intoxicatingly. This was a new sensation. Miss MacLauren did not know herself, the sound of her gay chatting and laughter was strange in her ears. Perhaps it was an unexpected r
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