Two weeks at Glenmore, and Dorothy and Nancy were content. Letters from Mrs. Dainty and Aunt Charlotte assured them that the dear travelers were well, and that already Mrs. Dainty was feeling the benefit of the change of scene.

Mrs. Dainty had engaged a large, front room at Glenmore for the two girls to enjoy as a sitting-room and study, from which led a tastefully furnished chamber, and already they called it their "school home."

Patricia and Arabella had a fair-sized room farther down the corridor. Vera Vane and Elfreda Carleton were snugly settled in cozy quarters a few doors beyond the one that bore Dorothy's and Nancy's names. Patricia Levine had ordered a large card, elaborately lettered in red and green, announcing that:

A small card was all that was necessary, indeed only a small card was permitted, but Patricia did not know that. After her usual manner of doing things, she had ordered a veritable placard of the village sign painter, and when she had tacked it upon the door, it fairly shouted, in red and green ink.

"There!" she exclaimed, "I guess when the other girls see that, they'll think the two who have this room are pretty swell."

"Isn't it,—rather—loud?" ventured Arabella timidly.

Patricia's eyes blazed.

"Loud?" she cried. "Well, what do you want? A card that will whisper?"

"Maybe it's all right," Arabella said quickly, to which Patricia responded:

"Of course it's all right. It's more than all right! It's very el'gant!"

Arabella was no match for her room-mate, and whenever a question arose regarding any matter of mutual interest, it was always Patricia who settled it, and Arabella who meekly agreed that she was probably right.

Arabella was not gentle, indeed she possessed a decidedly contrary streak, but she always feared offending Patricia, because Patricia could be very disagreeable when opposed.

Patricia was still admiring the gaudy lettering when a door at the far end of the corridor opened.

She sprang back into her room, closed the door and standing close to it waited to hear if the big card provoked admiring comment.

Nearer came the footsteps.

Could they pass without seeing it? They paused—then:

"Well, just look at that!"

"A regular sign-board!"

A few moments the two outside the door stood whispering, then one giggled, and together they walked to the stairway and descended, laughing all the way.

Patricia opened the door and peeped out. "It was that red-haired girl, and the black-haired one that are always together," she reported to Arabella.

"Now, what in the world were they laughing at?"

"Laughing at the big card, I suppose," Arabella said.

"Well, there's nothing funny about that," Patricia said, hotly. "It cost ever so much more than the teenty little cards on the other doors did." Patricia rated everything by its cost.

"They knew that big card looked fine, and they certainly could see that the lettering was showy," she continued; "so why did they stand outside the door giggling?"

"How do I know?" Arabella said.

"Open the door, and we'll look at it again, and see if—"

A smart tap upon the door caused Arabella to stop in the middle of the sentence.

"S'pose it's those same girls?" whispered Patricia. "If I thought it was I wouldn't stir a step."

A second rap, louder, and more insistent than the first brought both girls to their feet, and Patricia flew to open the door.

Miss Fenler glared at them through her glasses.

"Why did you not answer my first rap?" she asked.

"We didn't know it was you," said Patricia.

Ignoring the excuse, Miss Fenler continued: "I called to tell you to remove that great card, and put a small one in its place with only your names upon it, and in regard to your efforts to obtain work, you can not have any such notice upon your door. Instead you must leave your names at the office and I will see if any of the pupils will patronize you."

"I don't know what you mean!" cried Patricia, flushed and angry.

For answer Miss Fenler pointed to a line penciled on the lower edge of the placard which read:

"We never wrote that!" cried Arabella, "and we don't want to be patronized."

"The red-haired girl, and the black-haired girl that are always together, stopped at the door and did something, and then went down stairs laughing all the way," screamed Patricia. "'Twas one of those two who wrote that."

"I must ask you to talk quietly," Miss Fenler said, "and as to the writing, I'll look into that. In the meantime I'll get a small card for you to put in place of that large one."

She left the room, and as soon as she was well out of hearing, Patricia vowed vengeance upon the two girls who had written the provoking legend.

"I'll get even with them!" she said.

"How will you?" Arabella asked.

"I don't know yet, but you'd better believe I'll watch for a chance!"

"I'll watch, too!" cried Arabella.

It was the custom at Glenmore to hold a little informal reception on an evening of the third week after the school had opened.

Its purpose was to have pupils of all the classes present so that those who never met in the recitation-rooms might become acquainted.

When the announcement appeared upon the bulletin board it caused a flurry of excitement.

Dorothy and Nancy had already found new friends, and were eager to meet others whose agreeable ways had interested them.

"It's such a pleasant place," Dorothy said one morning as she stood brushing her hair, "and so many pleasant faces in the big class-room. I saw at least a dozen I'd like to know, when we were having the morning exercises, and there's ever so many more that we have yet to meet."

"And Tuesday evening is sure to be jolly. There'll be a crowd to talk with, and one of the girls told me to-day that there's almost sure to be some music, either vocal or instrumental, and she said that last year they often had fine readers at the receptions," Nancy concluded.

They were on their way to the class-room, when Patricia and Arabella joined them.

"Is the social to be a dressy affair?" Patricia asked, adding: "I hope it is, because I shall be dressy, whether any one else is or not."

They had reached the class-room door so that there was no time for either Dorothy or Nancy to reply to the silly remark if they had cared to do so.

At eight o'clock nearly all the pupils had assembled in the big reception-room, and the hum of voices told that each was doing her best to outdo her neighbor. Near the center of the room a group of girls stood talking. It was evident that the theme of their conversation was not engrossing, for twice their leader, Betty Chase, had replied at random while her eyes roved toward the door, and Valerie Dare remarked that her chum had been reading such a romantic story, that she was eagerly looking for a knight in full armor to appear.

"Be still!" cried Betty. "You know very well what I'm looking for."

"I do indeed," Valerie admitted. "Say, girls! You all know the two that are always together, the one with goggles that we've dubbed the 'medicine chest,' and her chum who wears all the rainbow colors whenever and wherever she appears?"

"Surely, but what are their names?" inquired a pale, sickly-looking girl who had joined the group.

"Don't know their names," said Betty, "but I heard Miss Rainbow telling her friend that she intended to wear 'something very dressy' to-night, so I'm eager to see her. My! Here she comes now."

"Good gracious!" gasped Valerie, under her breath.

With head very high, Patricia rushed, rather than walked across the room, until she reached the center, when she stopped as if to permit every one to obtain a good view of her costume. Her bold manner made her more absurd even than her dress which was, as Betty Chase declared, "surprising!"

Turning slowly around to the right, then deliberately to the left, she appeared to feel herself a paragon of fashion, a model dressed to give the pupils of Glenmore a chance to observe something a bit finer than they had ever seen before.

As Patricia slowly turned, Arabella, like a satellite, as slowly revolved about her.

Who could wonder that a wave of soft laughter swept over the room. It was evident that vanity equalling that of the peacock moved Patricia to turn about that every one might see both front and back of her dress, but no one could have guessed why Arabella in a plain brown woolen dress kept pace with her silly friend.

It was not vanity that kept droll little Arabella moving. No, indeed.

Thus far, Arabella had made no new acquaintances.

As she entered the reception-room with Patricia she saw only a sea of strange faces, and with a wild determination at least to have Patricia to speak to, she trotted around her, that she might not, at any moment, find herself talking to Patricia's back.

That surely would be awkward, she thought.

Patricia's dress was a light gray silk, tastefully made, and had she been content to wear it as it had been sent to her from New York, she would have looked well-dressed, and no one would have made comments upon her appearance.

The soft red girdle gave a touch of color, but not nearly enough to please Patricia.

At the village store she had purchased ribbons of many colors, from which she had made bows or rosettes of every hue, and these she had tacked upon her slippers. Her hair was tied with a bright blue ribbon, and over the shoulders of her blouse she had sewed pink and yellow ribbons. Narrow green edged her red girdle.

Blue and buff, rose and orange, straw-color and lavender, surely not a tint was missing, and the result was absolutely comical! One would have thought that a lunatic had designed the costume.

And when she believed that her dress had been seen from all angles, Patricia left the reception-room, passing to a larger room beyond, where she seated herself, and at once assumed a bored expression. Not the least interest in other pupils had she. She had come to the little social to be gazed at, and as soon as she believed that all must have seen her, the party held no further interest for her.

She heard the buzz of whispered conversation in the room that she had left, and she wished that she might know what they were saying. It was well that she could not.

"What an unpleasant-looking girl!" said one.

"Wasn't that dress a regular rainbow?" whispered another.

"Oh, but she was funny, turning around for us to see her, just like a wax dummy in a store window," said a third.

"She's queer to go off by herself!" remarked the first one who had spoken.

"We're not very nice," said Betty Chase, who thus far had not spoken, "that is not very kind, to be so busily talking about her."

"Well, I declare, Betty, who'd ever dream that you, who are always getting into scrapes would boldly give us a lecture."

Betty's black eyes flashed.

"I know I get into funny scrapes," she snapped, "but whatever I do, I don't talk about people, Ida Mayo."

"You don't have time to," exclaimed her chum, Valerie Dare. "It takes all your spare time to plan mischief."

In the laugh that followed, Betty forgot that she was vexed.

Patricia began to find it rather dull sitting alone in a room back of the reception-hall.

She felt that she had entered the hall in a burst of glory; had fairly dazzled all beholders!

She had believed that the girls would be so entranced with her appearance that they would follow her that they might again inspect her costume.

She was amazed that she had been permitted to sit alone if she chose.

The other pupils thought it strange that she should choose to remain alone instead of becoming acquainted with those who were to be her schoolmates for the year, but believing that she was determined to be unsocial, they made no effort to disturb her.

Arabella, who had followed her, became curious as to what was going on in the hall, and from time to time, crept to the wide doorway, peeped out to get a better view, then returned to report what she had seen.

"Everybody is talking to Dorothy and Nancy," she said in a stage whisper, then:

"Vera Vane seems to know almost every one already, and Elf Carleton is telling a funny story, and making all the girls around her laugh.

"And, Patricia, you ought to come here and see Betty Chase. She has a long straw, and she's tickling Valerie's neck with it. Valerie doesn't dream what it is, and while she's talking, keeps trying to brush off the tickly thing. Come and see her!"

Patricia did not stir. She longed to see the fun, but she felt rather abashed to come out from her corner.

The sound of a violin being tuned proved too tempting, however, and she joined Arabella in the doorway.

One of the youngest pupils stood, violin in hand, while, at the piano, Betty Chase was playing the prelude. Lina Danford handled the bow cleverly, and played her little solo with evident ease.

Her audience was delighted, and gayly their hands clapped their approval. The two in the doorway stood quite still, and gave no evidence of pleasure. Arabella was too spunkless to applaud; Patricia was too jealous.

Arabella, after her own dull fashion, had enjoyed the music.

Patricia surely had not.

Patricia never could bear to see or hear any one do anything!

"Let's go up to our room," she whispered.

"P'rhaps some of the others will play or sing," ventured Arabella, who wished to remain.

"Let 'em!" Patricia said, even her whisper showing that she was vexed.

"'Let 'em?'" Arabella drawled. "Why I'll have to let 'em. I couldn't stop them, and I don't want to. I'd like to hear them."

"Then stay and hear them!" snapped Patricia, and she rushed out into the midst of the groups of listeners, and dashed up the stairway before Miss Fenler could stop her.

What could have been more rude and ill-bred than to leave in such haste, thereby disturbing those who were enjoying the music?

Arabella's first thought was to follow Patricia lest she be angry, but she saw Miss Fenler's effort to stay Patricia, and she dared not leave the room.

Arabella felt as if she were between two desperate people.

She feared Miss Fenler, as did every pupil at Glenmore, and by remaining where she was, she certainly was not offending her, but she could not forget Patricia. What a temper she would be in when, after the concert was over, Arabella, cautiously, would turn the latch, and enter their chamber!

Patricia was wide awake, and listening, when at last Arabella reached their door. Softly she tried to open it so carefully that if Patricia were asleep she might remain so.

Patricia had turned the key in the lock, and she fully enjoyed lying comfortably on the bed, and listening while on the other side of the door her chum was turning the knob first one way and then the other.

There's no knowing how long she would have permitted Arabella to stand out in the hall, but suddenly she remembered that Miss Fenler strode down the corridors every night after lights were supposed to be out, just to learn if any one of the girls were defying the rule.

With a rather loud "O dear!" Patricia flounced out of bed, went to the door, pretended to be so sleepy that she could not at once find the key, and then, as the door opened, gave an exaggerated yawn.

For once Arabella was quick-witted.

"Miss Fenler is just coming up the stairs," she said.

Patricia forgot the scolding that she had been preparing for Arabella, and instead she said:

"Hurry! Put out the light. You can undress in the dark, but for goodness' sake, don't stumble over anything!"