e exam. I didn't want to miss it
either; it was literature, you know."

"Where did you leave your snow shoes?"

"Up against the gym porch; they were awfully wet and I didn't want to
take the time to go to my room. I say it was a bit of a joke; you're
thinking I was lost, wasn't it?" she asked, calmly.

Polly finished buttoning her dress.

"Maud," she said sternly "go back upstairs. To-morrow we may be able to
see the joke, but not now."

Maud left with Fanny. "I'm most awfully sorry," were her last words.

A few minutes later, the girls sought the comfort of Mrs. Baird's
charming sitting-room, and the promised hot soup.

Between sips they told her the story of their hunt and the fears that
beset them. She listened delightedly, but with ready sympathy.

"You poor, dear children! What an experience! I talked to Maud very
severely."

Betty thought she said: "I will talk."

"Don't tell her what we've told you," she begged, "I wouldn't have her
know for anything."

"She'd say it was no end of a joke," Polly laughed.

Mrs. Baird nodded in understanding.

"Of course I won't tell her," she said merrily. "It's a secret just
between us," she added with a smile.

CHAPTER XV

THE JUNIOR PROM

Polly and Lois were busily packing their suitcases, while Betty and
Angela stood by and offered suggestions. They were leaving on the
afternoon train for Cambridge to attend the Junior Prom. Bob and Jim had
finally prevailed upon Mrs. Farwell to let them come. Barring the party
at Fanny's this was their first big dance, and they were both frankly
excited about it.

"What time does your mother get here?" Betty asked. "Is she coming up to
school?"

"No; we're going to meet her at the Junction, where we change for the
Boston train," Lois replied.

"Oh, I'm sorry; I hoped I was going to see her." Betty was very fond of
Mrs. Farwell.

"She'll be here for Commencement," Polly said, "so will Uncle Roddy;
he's crazy to see you again. And this summer we're going to have a big
house party, Ange. You've got to come this time with Bet."

"I'd love it, if you won't insist on my breaking in colts, and-- Look
out, Lo! if you don't wrap up those slippers in tissue paper they'll be
all scratched--"

"I haven't any tissue paper; won't a towel do?"

"Yes; here, I'll throw you one."

"Mercy! I almost forgot my silk stockings," Polly exclaimed. "Get them
out of my bottom drawer for me, will you, Bet, like an angel?"

Bett