The little dog had slept all night, but when morning came he wanted to go out for a romp. Patricia tied him to the leg of the bed, gave him some breakfast and sat on the floor beside him to stop him if he began to bark.

Thus far he had been very quiet, only softly growling, and stopping that when Patricia held up her finger and told him he must "keep still."

"Why do we have to review?" Patricia said as Arabella took up a book.

"The idea of looking into my history to see when Virginia was settled at Jamestown when any one knows it was in fourteen ninety-two!"

"O my, Patricia! That's wrong," Arabella said, "That's when Columbus discovered America."

"Well, for goodness' sake! Couldn't he have landed in Virginia, and settled it at the same time?" demanded Patricia. She was desperately angry, but Arabella persisted.

"Don't you know, Patricia, it couldn't have been settled in fourteen ninety-two?"

"Oh, don't bother me about that!" said Patricia, and Arabella, peering at her through her goggles decided that it would be wise to do no more correcting.

"I don't think Miss Fenler is fair," said Patricia, "for she marked my history paper only forty-two, and I just know it ought to have been higher than that. And my spelling she marked only thirty-eight last month, and all because I put an r in water, spelling it 'warter,' and I'm sure that's not bad."

"You put two t's in it, too," said Arabella.

"I will again if I want to," snapped Patricia.

"There's the breakfast-bell. He's sure to bark while we're down-stairs," Arabella said. She hoped that he would, so that he might be given other quarters. He looked up as the door closed, and was about to bark when he saw one of Arabella's slippers, and grabbing it, retired under the bed to chew it.

It was a rule that the maids should make the beds, and put the rooms in order while the pupils were at breakfast, and on that morning it fell to Maggie's share of the work to care for the only room now occupied.

She was a good-natured Irish girl, and she entered the room singing:

"'Now, Rory, be aisy, don't tase me no more,
'Tis the—'"

"Och, murther! Murther! There's a man under the bed, an' he grabbed me by me shoe,—oh! oh!"

Down-stairs she ran, screaming all the way, declaring that there was a man up-stairs, and calling for some one brave enough to "dhrive him out."

Her terror was very real, and Marcus was called in to oust the intruder.

"It must be a sneak-thief," said Miss Fenler.

"It am a sneak-thief," said Marcus, appearing with the small dog in his arms.

"He stole a slipper, an den sneaked under der bed ter chew on it. Sure, he am a sneak-thief, but I knows a cullud gemman what wants a dog, an' I guess he's 'bout the right size. Dey has a pow'ful small house, an' him an' his wife, an' seben chilluns lib in dem two rooms, so he couldn't want no bigger dog dan dis yar."

"Why nobody can give that dog away!" shrieked Patricia. "I bought him yesterday, and paid the man two dollars for him. He's mine!"

"Do you mean to tell me, Patricia, that you bought that dog and deliberately brought him here, when you knew that it was against the rules of the school?" Mrs. Marvin asked.

"You kept the cat," said Patricia.

"Because I let the cat remain, you decided that it would be safe to do practically the same thing again, did you?" Mrs. Marvin's usually kind voice sounded very cold now.

"He isn't a cat, so 'tisn't the same," Patricia said with a pout.

"We must find an owner for him, Marcus," Mrs. Marvin said.

"I won't let him go!" screamed Patricia.

"You cannot keep him here."

"Then I'll go back to my aunt's house at Merrivale, and take him with me," said Patricia.

"Do as you like about that," Mrs. Marvin said quietly, "but you must choose."

"I've choosed, I mean 'chosen,'" said Patricia. "I'll go right straight off, and take the dog with me."

It looked like haste and anger, but for weeks Patricia had been so far behind the others of her class, that she believed that any day Mrs. Marvin would send her home with a letter stating that she had been neglecting study, and must give up her place to some ambitious pupil. Patricia preferred to go of her own choice, so she rushed to her room, and began to pack her belongings.

Arabella stood watching her as if not fully realizing that she was losing her chum.

She was not quite so dull as she appeared. She was sorry to have Patricia go, and she was not at all sure that she would like her room all to herself. At the same time she was comforting herself with the thought that there would be no one to make her eat things that she ate for the sake of peace and that nearly always made her ill, or to drag her into mischief that she, herself would never have thought of. When Patricia's trunk was strapped to the back of the carriage, and she stood on the porch, her suit-case in one hand, her other hand holding the dog's leash, she turned to Arabella.

"Well, aren't you going to say something, now I'm ready to start?" she asked.

"Do'no' what to say," drawled Arabella.

Arabella had spoken the truth, which, however, was not complimentary, and Patricia was offended.

Arabella, looking after her tried to decide just how she felt. She would miss Patricia, because at times she was a lively chum, but she was quick to take offense, and Arabella was always doing something that displeased her.

Then, too, Arabella had a very small allowance, while Patricia spent money with a free hand, and always "shared" with Arabella. But what joy was there in eating the oddly chosen "treats"?

Arabella decided that as there was but a short time before the closing of school, it was, perhaps, the best thing that could have happened, that Patricia had decided to go back to Merrivale. It seemed strange that she should prefer to be with her aunt in Merrivale, rather than with her mother, at their home in New York, but those who knew were not surprised.

Mrs. Levine was as strange in some respects, as her little daughter was in others. If Patricia enjoyed being away from home, Mrs. Levine, flighty, and weak-willed, was glad to be free from the care of Patricia.

The aunt was very glad of the money paid for Patricia's board, so every one concerned seemed satisfied.

Surely Patricia was having but little training, but who was there to complain?

Being away from home had one decided advantage, Patricia thought.

She could ask for money when she needed clothing, and when she received it she could make her own choice of hats, coats, or dresses, and what a lively choice it was!

She had rightly earned the title of the "Human Rainbow."

She had heard the name, and she liked it. She thought that it implied that her costumes were gay, rather than dull colored.

Mrs. Marvin breathed a sigh of relief when Patricia had actually left Glenmore, and Miss Fenler remarked that Arabella was really too slow to get into mischief, now that she had no one to assist her.

The ride had been a long one, and the car had been hot after the early morning. Vera complained that she was fairly roasted, while Elf declared that she had breathed smoke from the open windows until she believed that she would smell smoke for a week. Dorothy and Nancy made little fuss about either smoke or heat, bearing the discomforts of the trip patiently, and laughing when Vera fumed.

"Well, I know, if I were a man," said Vera, "I could make some kind of an engine that would go like lightning, and have neither smoke nor cinders. I told Rob that, and he said, 'Oh, don't let it stop you because you're not a man. Just go ahead, Pussy Weather-vane, and plan it. The companies won't refuse to use it because it wasn't invented by a man!'

"Now, isn't that just like a boy? What time do I have to do things like that? Doesn't he know that I have lessons, and all sorts of things that hinder me?"

"Why do you girls laugh at everything I say, just as Rob does?" she concluded, looking in surprise, from one merry face to the other.

"Oh, but Vera, you are funny when you sputter," said Elf.

"I s'pose I am," agreed Vera, "and I don't much care. I'm sure I'd rather make you laugh, than make you look sober."

"Look! Look!" cried Dorothy.

"We're almost to Glenmore!"

"Not yet," said Vera.

"Oh, but Dorothy is right," said Nancy, "for look there where the river glistens in the sun."

"And see that big Club House right over there," Dorothy said, pointing toward a handsome building of which the town of Glenmore was justly proud.

"But it doesn't seem quite like—"

Vera's remark was interrupted by the trainman, who opened the door and shouted, "Glenmore! Glenmore!"

"I guess it did look like it," Vera said, as she sprang out on the platform, followed by her three laughing companions. Marcus was waiting for them.

"Yo'-all git in, an' we'll git dar as quick as we kin. Mis' Marvin, she say all the other pupils is arriv, an' she hopes you fo' will be some prompt."

"We came as soon as the train would bring us," said Elf.

"But dat train am an hour later dan de time-table say."

"Do you believe that?" Elf asked of the others, as they rode along.

"They must have changed the time-table," Nancy said.

Marcus turned his head to shout:

"No, miss, no. Nobody doesn't neber chane nuffin' in Glenmore!"

Mrs. Marvin was on the porch, as the carriage turned in at the gateway, and she stepped forward to greet them as they sprang out on the walk.

"I was beginning to wonder what had detained you, when I was delighted to see the carriage coming around the bend of the road. You are just in time to go to your rooms and 'freshen up' a bit before dinner, and— Why, Arabella Correyville! What does this mean?"

A drenched and bedraggled figure was mounting the steps. Her hair, and garments were dripping, she had lost her goggles, and without them her eyes had a frightened stare.

"I didn't mean to look like this," she said, "but I lost the key to my room. I'd locked the door when I went out, and I wanted to study some before dinner. I climbed up onto the edge of that hogshead that the workmen had left right beside the trellis that runs up by my window. I meant to get in at my window, but I fell and got into a hogshead of dirty water. 'Twasn't very pleasant," she drawled.

One might have thought, from the manner in which she said it that most people would have enjoyed the "ducking"!

Mrs. Marvin looked discouraged. This was the girl that could not get into a scrape, now that she had no one to drag her in!

"Miss Fenler, will you assist Arabella in making herself presentable before six? It is after five-thirty now."

Miss Fenler looked anything but pleased, but she dared not refuse. Arabella seemed quieter than ever when she came down the stairway, her wet garments exchanged for dry ones, and her straight hair primly braided, thanks to Miss Fenler.

Doubtless she had not recovered from her surprise when she found herself in the hogshead. It always required time for Arabella to recover from any new idea, or unusual happening.

The other girls were giving the four who had just returned a gay welcome, and Dorothy slipped her arm around Betty Chase, and told her the fine news that during the summer they were both to be at Foam Ridge.

"Oh, Dorothy!" cried Betty, her dark eyes shining, "I was delighted when mother wrote that we were going there, just because I so love to be at the shore, and now to think that you and Nancy are to spend the summer there,—oh, it is such a dear surprise."

"But listen, every one!" cried Valerie Dare. "That's all very fine for Betty, but the other bit of news isn't quite so nice. Dorothy Dainty and Nancy Ferris are to leave Glenmore two weeks earlier than the rest of us. Say! Do you think we'll miss them?"

"Oh, Dorothy Dainty! Why do you go so soon?"

"And take Nancy with you, too! Say, do you have to?"

"Can't you stay longer?"

These and many more were the queries called forth by Valerie's statement.

It was small comfort for them to listen when Dorothy explained.

The fact remained, that they did not want to have her leave before school closed. She had endeared herself to her classmates, and to many others whom she met at socials, and after school sessions. Nancy shared her popularity, and both prized the loving friendship that had made their stay at Glenmore so pleasant.