ning at least a dozen Sunday newspapers that came to her one
morning--also a check for fifteen dollars. With eager fingers she tore
wrappers from the papers, and began to search through multitudinous
columns for her article about Wellington.

At last, with Nance's and Judy's help, she found it, not tucked away in
a corner as she had half expected, but spread out over the page. It is
true the pictures were rather blurred, but there were the columns of
writing, all hers, so she fondly believed, so skillfully had Mr. Lufton
wrought the changes he had been obliged to make.

The article was signed "M. W. C. B." and a framed copy of it hangs to
this day on the crowded walls of the _Commune_ office. There was not
much doubt who "M. W. C. B." was and Molly was deluged with calls and
congratulations all day. It was glorious to have been the means of
refuting Miss Beatrice Slammer's criticisms, and she could not help
feeling very proud as she hurried down the avenue to the infirmary, one
of the papers tucked under her arm, devoutly hoping that Alice Fern had
gone home by now. It was reported that the Professor was walking about
and in a few days was to go to Bermuda to stay until after the Christmas
holidays. The Professor himself, and not Miss Fern, opened the door for
Molly before Miss Grace Green, reading aloud by the window, could
remonstrate with him. He was a mere ghost of his former self, pale,
emaciated. His clothes seemed three sizes too big for his wasted frame
and he had grown quite bald around the temples. Molly thought him very
old that afternoon.

"I've brought something to show you," she said, after she had shaken
hands with the brother and sister and the three had drawn up their
chairs by the window. Then Miss Grace Green read the article aloud and
Molly explained that it was Mr. Lufton, to whom they were already so
deeply indebted, who had arranged to get it published.

"I took him over to the _Commune_ office," said Molly, "and that started
it."

Miss Green smiled and the Professor shifted uneasily in his chair.
Presently Miss Green rose.

"It's time for your buttermilk, Edwin, and you and I shall have some
tea, Miss Molly," she added as she slipped out of the room.

"Tell me a little about yourself, Miss Molly," observed the Professor,
when they were left alone. "Did you have a pleasant summer and how is
the old orchard?"

"Oh, the orchard was most shamefully neglected," replied Molly. "Simply
a mass