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"What!" cried his guardian, rising. "Do you dare to sit there and tell me that you are a traitor, a coward, and an ungrateful man?",

"Not she," declared Griffin. "We were all in a blue fit. Not that we old stagers are sorry for the man, but it shocked our sense of what's due him as a teacher. I was fearfully ashamed of Slovinski, but it was fun to see how astounded he looked. He just stood looking at her more quietly than I'd ever seen him look at any one, and then he bowed and asked her if she'd quite finished. Jiminy, but he was polite! We all got a chill. Slovinski sat down, and we took to work again. Benton went on criticizing as if nothing had happened, but we felt mighty queer. Then Bottle Green stooped over to get her paint-box, and up she starts, most tragic-like, with her hand, on her shoulder, and she solemnly announces she's broken her arm.",

All about the spacious hall were groups of Arabians, of fair Circassians, of dusky Nubians and turbaned Turks, while the rustle of costly fabrics and the odor of heavy Eastern perfumes floated in the air; the modern city outside in the wintry electric lights was well forgot in the enchantment of the moment, and Patricia lost count of time and sense of self in the pageant that swept across the lofty chamber to make its obeisance at the imperial divan.,

"Isn't it queer how wobbly one feels?" commented Judith uneasily. "We've been crazy for the time to come, and now we feel like running away. I know I'll simply drop when Mr. Benton makes his speech."

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Yes, Aunt Bettie is right about Dr. John; he doesn't see a woman, and there is no way to make him. What she had said about it made me realise that he had always been like that, and I told myself that there was no reason in the world why my heart should beat in my slippers on that account. Still I don't see why Ruth Clinton should have her head literally thrown against that stone wall, and I wish Aunt Bettie wouldn't. It seemed like a desecration even to try to match-make him, and it made me hot with indignation all over. I dug so fiercely at the roots of my phlox with a trowel I had picked up that they groaned so loud I could almost hear them. I felt as if I must operate on something. And it was in this mood that Alfred's letter found me.,

"The surprise, I am sure," announced Judith calmly. "Let's try to guess what it is, like charades or Dumb Crambo. You can tell us if we guess right, Bruce. I'll begin first.",

"You've got to make butterflies of the wire-loops, you know, to hold the clay up, or it'll slump down off the iron headpiece soon as you get your head set up," explained her instructor in an agreeable tone. "It's easier to set up a head than a figure, I can tell you——",

"Did he apologize for his use of it before or after the explanation?" was Jen's final question.