at us over her spectacles. We'll say we--"

A wee snore finished the sentence, and Vera turned over with a lurch
that shook the bed.

She thought it very hard that she must lie awake and worry, while Elf
could sleep; in short, she wanted some one to worry with her.

"It's like the way I climb trees when we're away in the summer," she
muttered.

"It's fine climbing up, but I'm always afraid to climb down. If Bob is
near, I can always make him get me down, but Bob isn't here to get me
out of this mess, and Elf won't even try to keep awake to help me
think."

She concluded that it was very unfeeling for Elf to be so sleepy. Her
cheeks were flushed, and her head ached.

"O dear!" she whispered, softly, "Dorothy Dainty and Nancy Ferris are
full of fun, but they never get into a regular fix such as I'm in now. I
don't see how they manage to have such good times without ever getting
mixed up in something that's hard to explain. And Betty and Valerie will
get off Scot free, for 'The Fender' couldn't see them under the bed, and
of course we'll not tell that they were there."

She did not know that when Betty and Valerie had reached their own room
they found that in their haste to arrive at the "feast" they had left
the light burning in their room!

Oh, indeed Miss Fenler had seen that, and she had opened the door. She
had found no one there. She had seen that four had been enjoying the
feast, because at each of the four sides of the spread were fragments of
partly eaten cream-cakes, or bits of fruitcakes. Her sharp eyes had seen
enough to assure her that two other girls were in hiding somewhere in
the room, doubtless the two whose light had been left burning. She
thought it clever to let them think that they had escaped notice. Their
surprise would be greater when she sent them to Mrs. Marvin the next
morning. Daylight found Vera tossing and turning, while Elf was
dreaming. It was not that Vera could not bear reproof. She could listen
for a half-hour to a description of her faults, and look like a cheerful
flaxen-haired sprite all the while. That which now worried her was the
thought that Mrs. Marvin might send her home.

It was the fifth time during the month that she had been reprimanded,
and even gentle Mrs. Marvin _might_ reach the limit of her patience.

Her father, she knew, would speak reprovingly, and then laugh at her.
Her mother, always weak-willed, would say: "Vera, dear, I wonder if you
were really naught