ch she had never placed there,
and saw that she was pale and had dark marks under her eyes, but not
more so than had been the case in that yesterday so strangely and
mysteriously removed in time. Her slender white arms and throat were as
rounded as usual. And if she had been ill, why was she left alone like
this? She found a dressing-gown not her own, and went on a voyage of
discovery. But the other rooms on her floor were dismantled and
tenantless. The girls were gone and the servants were "cleaning" in a
distant part of the College. She felt incapable of getting into bed
again and waiting for some one to come, so she began dressing herself
with trembling hands. Every detail increased the sense of strangeness.
There were a number of strange clothes, ball-dresses and others,
hanging in her cupboard, strange odds and ends thrust confusedly into
her bureau. She found at length a blue cotton frock of her own, which
seemed just home from the wash. She had twisted up her hair and was
putting on the blue frock, when she heard a step on the stairs, and
paused with beating heart. Who was coming? How would the mystery be
resolved? The door opened and Tims came in--the old Tims, wrinkled face,
wig, and old straw hat on one side as usual.

"Tims!" cried Milly, flying towards her and speaking with pale lips.
"Please, please tell me--what has happened? Have I been very ill?" And
she stared in Tims's face with a tragic mask of terror and anxiety.

"Now take it easy--take it easy, M., my girl!" cried Tims, giving her a
great squeeze and a clap on the shoulder. "I'm jolly glad to see you
back. But don't let's have any more of your hysterics. No, never no
more!"

"Have I been away?" asked Milly, her lips still trembling.

"I should think you had!" exclaimed Tims. "But nobody knows it except
me. Don't forget that. Here's a note for you from old B. Read it first
or we shall both forget all about it. She had to go away early this
morning."

Milly opened the note and read:

"DEAR MILLY,--I am sorry not to say good-bye, but glad you
are sleeping off your fatigue. I want to tell you, between
ourselves, not to go on worrying about the results of the
Schools, as I think you are doing, in spite of your
pretences to the contrary. I hear you have done at least one
brilliant paper, and although I, of course, know nothing
certain, I believe you and the College will have reason to
rejoice when the list