g, like Dawkins says," her last, untroubled
thought. So, though a prisoner, for many hours she slumbered
peacefully.

Down in the breakfast-room matters went on as usual. Or if many of the
girls and a few of the pupils seemed unduly sleepy, that was natural
enough, considering the frivolities and late hours of the night
before.

Even the Lady Principal, sitting calmly in her accustomed place,
looked very pale and tired; and Winifred, observing this, whispered to
her neighbor:

"I don't believe we'll get another party very soon. Just look at Miss
Tross-Kingdon. She's as white as a ghost and so nervous she can hardly
sit still. I never saw her that way before. The way she keeps glancing
toward the doors, half-scared every time she hears a noise, is queer.
I wonder if she's expecting somebody!"

"Likely somebody's late and she's waiting to say: 'Miss'--whoever it
is--'your excuse, please?' I wonder who 'twill be! and say, look at
the Aldrich ten--can you see Dorothy?"

Winifred glanced around and answered, with real surprise: "Why, she's
absent! If it were I nobody'd be astonished, 'cause I always have the
same excuse: 'Overslept.' But Dolly? Oh! I hope she isn't sick!"

And immediately the meal was over, Winifred hurried to the Lady
Principal and asked:

"Please, Miss Muriel, can you tell me, is Dorothy Calvert ill?"

"Excuse me, Winifred, I am extremely busy," returned Miss
Tross-Kingdon, and hurried away as if she were afraid of being
questioned further.

Naturally, Winifred was surprised, for despite her sternness the Lady
Principal was invariably courteous; and putting "two and two together"
she decided that Dorothy was in trouble of some sort and began a
systematic inquiry of all she met concerning her. But nobody had seen
the girl or knew anything about her; yet the questioner's anxiety
promptly influenced others and by the time school session was called
there was a wide-spread belief that some dreadful thing had befallen
the southerner, and small attention was paid to lessons.

It was not until the middle of the morning that Jack-boot-boy appeared
in the kitchen, from his room in an outside building, where the men
servants slept. He was greeted by reproofs for his tardiness and the
news of Dorothy's disappearance.

"Lost? Lost, you say? How can she be right here in this house? Why, I
saw her around all evening. It was her own party, wasn't it? or hers
was the first notion of it. Huh! That's the queer