The several girls of the committee separated, and went to join the different parties who were working for the Fancy Fair.

Almost every girl in the school had volunteered to do something, and on this long, lovely half-holiday they had decided to take their work out to different parts of the grounds, where they sat, some under the shelter of the wide-spreading beech trees, others in the summerhouses, or tents, which were scattered here and there in the grounds.

Ruth, who had a certain gift for management, was helping three or four of the smaller girls to make some patchwork quilts, but Olive had decided to keep with Janet and help her as much as possible.

Janet's party had assembled in a large, roomy summerhouse. There was a rustic table in the middle, and rustic chairs and benches surrounded it. Here six girls, all of whom belonged to the lower school, were sitting round a table laughing and chatting merrily. Some bits of colored silk, some gay chintzes, a heap of wools for crewel work, several boxes of water-color paints, some pieces of cardboard, some fans, screens, and pretty baskets were scattered about.

The girls were waiting for Janet and Ruth. They were not disposed to work. They lolled about and laughed, and looked somewhat wistfully at the lovely outer world, with the flickering shadows on the grass, and the dancing, happy sunshine making itself felt through everything.

"Even a Fancy Fair is a bore," said pretty little Violet to her crony Nora.

"But then we are doing it for Tim," said Alice, raising her charming, sweet face, and blushing as she spoke.

"Yes," retorted Violet again; "I think of Tim all the time, and how nice it will be to collect money for the little darling, and how happy we'll be in the long vacation, when we remember how we saved the pet from going to the workhouse, but still I do want to bathe awfully to-day, and however hard I think of the good this Fancy Fair is going to do, I cannot help being lazy this hot weather."

"Did you know, girls," exclaimed Nora, "that Bridget can swim and dive? She made a bet yesterday in the school that if we dropped sixpence into the sea she'd bring it up again in her mouth. She did really; she was most positive about it. Mary Hill and Cissy Jones bet against her that she wouldn't, but she was so fierce, and said she had done it fifty times before in the lake at home. I do love Bridget, don't you, Violet?"

"Yes, I adore her," said Violet, "she's quite the jolliest girl I ever came across. I'm awfully sorry she has got into trouble, and I hope Mrs. Freeman will soon forgive her. Poor dear, she doesn't mean to do wrong, and she is such fun."

"She's like a big baby," said Alice; "but all the same, it is wrong of her to bet, isn't it?"

"I don't know," replied Violet; "the way Biddy does things makes them appear not a bit wrong. I should like awfully to see her bring up that sixpence in her mouth. But hush, let us pretend to be talking of something else, for here comes Janet and that nasty Olive."

"Janet is really very nice about this fair," said Alice; "but she hates Biddy, and she has always hated darling Evelyn; it is so funny!"

"O Alice, do shut up," exclaimed Violet. "Here's Janet coming in. Let's pretend to be talking of something else."

The little girls bent their heads together, pulled forward their different working materials, and looked busy and important when Janet and Olive came in.

"Well, girls," said Janet, "I hope you are making lots of progress. How about that fan, Alice? Oh, you naughty puss, you have not touched it yet to-day. Now set to work; do set to work. Violet, how is your mat getting on? Let me look at it, dear; very pretty indeed; don't you think you could finish it to-day? Molly," turning to the smallest girl in the summerhouse, "you said you would paint some ribbon markers. Have you begun them yet? No, I see you haven't. Sit down now, you lazy darling, and try to make good progress."

Janet's tone was bright and confident. It had immediate effect upon, the children, stimulating their listlessness, and exciting them to work with energy.

Janet herself sat near the entrance of the summerhouse. She had an easel in front of her, and was painting an exquisite little water-color from nature. Janet had great talent for a certain kind of painting. There was nothing bold nor masterful in her work, but her touch was true and delicate, and in a small way she could produce a very pretty effect.

The younger girls thought Janet's painting perfection, and they stole up now, one by one, to look at her work and to give enthusiastic opinions with regard to it.

Their little comments were delightful to her. She had a great thirst for praise, and could swallow it in any guise.

While she worked, however, her thoughts were very busy; she had to solve a difficult problem, and had only a few hours to do it in.

After a long period of silence a remark dropped from her lips.

"I have made up my mind," she said, turning round and addressing all the children.

"O Janey, what have you thought of now?" asked Alice, raising her pretty flushed face, and pushing aside her painting.

"Take care of messing that fan, dear; you are painting in that red poppy very nicely," answered Janet. "Well, girls, I have made up my mind."

"Yes, Janey, yes; what about?" they all answered.

"Our stall is to be far and away the most beautiful at the Fancy Fair."

"Three cheers!" exclaimed the children, but then Alice said in a wistful tone:

"I don't see how it can be, Janet, for we are none of us rich. I heard Dolly say this morning that Evelyn's stall would certainly be far and away the best, for she was the only one of us who had money."

"Evelyn may not have a stall at all," said Janet, "but, in any case, if you six little girls will back me, and if Olive—I can answer for Olive that she will do her best—if Olive will help also, our stall will be the richest and the most lovely at the fair. Will you trust me to manage this, children?"

"Of course, Janet!" replied Nora, her eyes sparkling.

"Now I tell you what," said Janet, "I know pretty well what the other girls are doing. Frances Murray's girls are going in for the sober and useful; Dorothy Collingwood's are working with a will on the same dull lines. Poor old Ruth—oh, I'm not disparaging her—can't rise above her patchwork quilts, whereas we, we alone, have embraced ART. Girls, the combination of art and money will produce the most lovely stall at the fair. Now I have spoken! You stick to me, girls, and keep your secret to yourselves. Say nothing, but determine, every one of you, to do her utmost, not only for little Tim, but for the glory of the 'Janet May Stall.'"

"We will, we will!" said the children.

They were quite impressed by Janet's enthusiasm, and looked upon their own humble little efforts in the great field of art with some awe.

"It shall be done!" said Janet. "You have my word for it; I can, I will manage it. I shall take immediate steps. Olive, will you look after the girls during the remainder of this afternoon? I must do something at once to secure our ends."

Janet walked quickly back to the house. She was so lost in thought that she never saw a girl who was running full tilt against her.

"A penny for your thoughts, Janey!" exclaimed Dorothy Collingwood. "I never saw your brow so knit with care, my love. What can be the matter? Is the problem you have got to solve within twenty-four hours so intensely difficult?"

"It is difficult, Dorothy," replied Janet. "But, puzzling as it is, I am not going to allow it to conquer me. By the way, that reminds me; have you just come from the prisoner?"

"What prisoner?"

"That sweet Irish maid, Bridget O'Hara."

"No, I haven't, Janet; I have not forgotten her by any means. But I suppose I ought to ask Mrs. Freeman's leave before I visit her."

"Well, can't you ask it?"

"I have been looking all over the place for her, but can't find her anywhere. I am ever so sorry, for I should like to see Biddy, and I am sure I could exercise a little influence over her. However, there is nothing to be done until I get Mrs. Freeman's permission, and, as I'm going up to Evelyn now, poor Biddy must ponder over her shortcomings for at least another hour."

"What a happy girl you are, Dorothy!" said Janet. "Just fancy spending all one's time between the good and the naughty favorite of the school. Oh, what will not money effect!"

"I did not know before that poor Biddy was the favorite of the school," said Dorothy. "I wish you would not speak in such a satirical way, Janet. What is the good of trying to throw scorn on Evelyn? People only dislike you when you speak like that, and I earnestly wish you wouldn't."

"You are a good little soul, Dolly," said Janet, "but I must speak as the spirit moves me. Now don't let me keep you from your darling. There! I'll try and tolerate her for your sake."

Dorothy ran off, and Janet walked slowly past the front of the house, her brow knit in anxious thought.

She had reached a little wicket gate, which led round to the back premises, when she was suddenly startled by finding herself face to face with Mrs. Freeman.

For a moment a flood of color rushed to her cheeks. She felt inclined to pass her mistress with a brief salutation; then another impulse arrested her steps.

"Mrs. Freeman," she said, "may I speak to you for a moment?"

"Certainly, my dear! Can I do anything for you?"

"I should like to ask a favor of you."

"Well, Janet, you don't very often petition for my small mercies. You are a good girl, studious and attentive. Your masters and mistresses always give me pleasant reports of your progress. Now, what can I do for you?"

"I've been told that Bridget O'Hara is under punishment. I should very much like to see her."

This request of Janet's evidently astonished Mrs. Freeman. She looked attentively at her pupil, then said in a voice of surprise:

"I did not even know that you were friends."

"Nor are we. I think without any doubt we are at the antipodes in everything. But—I am sorry for a girl who is under punishment. I thought perhaps I might say something to her about—submitting. She might take it better from one of her schoolfellows than from a mistress. This occurred to me, but perhaps I am only taking a liberty."

"By no means, Janet. I frankly say I am pleased and surprised at your thoughtfulness. I confess to you, my dear, that Bridget is a very difficult girl to manage."

"I am sure of that!"

"Very, very difficult. The care of her weighs heavily on me. I sympathize with her in some things. She is full of good impulses, but her character—well, it has not been trained at all. Are you likely to be able to influence her, Janet?"

"I could but do my best!"

Mrs. Freeman paused to consider.

"Had Dorothy made this petition," she said then, "I should have granted it, as a matter of course. Dorothy has always tried to be nice to Bridget, and it would have been like her to do a kindness now. Dorothy, however, has come to me with no such request, and you have, Janet. I am pleased with your thoughtfulness. I shall certainly not refuse you. Go to her, dear, and say what is in your heart. You have my best wishes!"

"Thank you, Mrs. Freeman," said Janet, in her low, pretty voice. She tripped away, and a moment later was knocking at Miss Patience's sitting-room door.

"Come in, whoever you are!" said a sulky voice from the interior of the room.

Janet opened the door, shut it carefully behind her, and advanced to the table, on the edge of which Bridget had perched herself as if she were on horseback.

"Well, what do you want now that you have come?" asked Miss O'Hara, in her proudest voice. "You never liked me, so I suppose you are awfully pleased to see me like this?"

"Now do hush," said Janet. "I have not come in an unkind spirit. You must really listen, Bridget, to what I have come to say. I am the very first of your schoolfellows to visit you, and would I trouble to come if I did not mean it kindly?"

Janet's voice was the essence of gentle calm. It affected poor tempest-tossed Biddy, who jumped down from her imaginary horse, and leant up against the window-sill, a strikingly handsome, but defiant looking young sinner.

"I suppose you do mean it kindly," she said, "and you are the first of the girls to look me up. But you are sure Mrs. Freeman did not send you?"

"She knows that I have come, but she certainly did not send me."

"Well, I suppose it's good-natured of you. I thought Dolly Collingwood would have come to me before now, but it's 'out of sight, out of mind' with her as with the rest of them."

"Dorothy, at the present moment, is with Evelyn Percival."

"The girl who was thrown out of the carriage last night—the queen of the school? I may be thankful she was not badly hurt, poor dear."

Janet did not say anything. Bridget turned to the window, and began to beat a tattoo on the pane with her knuckles.

"Look here," she said again, after a pause, "now that you are here, what do you want? It's good-natured of you to come, of course, but I can't make out what good you are likely to do."

"Yes. I shall do plenty of good," said Janet, in her assured tones. "I am going to give you some advice which you will be very glad to take."

"Indeed, then, you are finely mistaken. I'll be nothing of the kind."

"You've not heard what I'm going to say, yet. Won't you sit down and let us be comfortable?"

"You can sit if you fancy it. I prefer standing."

"Very well; we shall both be pleased. This is a very comfortable chair."

Janet sank back in it, and raised her placid face to Bridget's. The two girls were in all particulars contrasts. Biddy's curls were now a mop; a wild, aggressive, almost disreputable looking mop. Her white dress was draggled and crumpled, her cheeks were deeply flushed, her eyes flashed ominous fire, her proud lips took many haughty and defiant curves. Janet, in contradistinction to all this, was the soul of neat commonplace. Her pale blue cambric frock fitted her neat figure like a glove. She had white linen cuffs at her wrists; her little hands were exquisitely clean; her fair face looked the essence of peace. Her neat, smooth head of light hair shone like satin.

"I am anxious about you," said Janet. "I can see quite plainly that you are going all wrong."

Bridget gave a sort of snort.

Janet held up her small hand imploringly.

"Do listen," she said. "How can I explain myself if you interrupt me each moment?"

"But you never liked me, Janey. You have shown that all too plainly. I cannot imagine what you are prying into my affairs for. Now if Dolly came——"

"Dolly has not come, and I have. Now, will you listen. I will frankly say that I did not care about you when you first came to the school. When I saw you so—so defiant, Bridget, so proud, so free, so absolutely fearless; when I saw you with all these characteristics, taking people by storm, for you know you did take the little girls of the school quite by storm, I felt a sense of strong irritation against you. I never met a girl like you before; you puzzled me; you did not please me. Now, I am going to be quite frank; I do not really like you much better now, but as I see that you fully intend to be on my side, it is impossible for me any longer not to take your part."

"I fully intend to be on your side?" repeated Bridget. "Indeed, then, I don't, and I may as well say so frankly at once."

"Yes, Bridget, you do; you can't help yourself, for you and I will in future have good cause to hate the same girl."

"What girl?'

"Evelyn Percival; the one you have just spoken of as the queen of the school."

"The darling!" exclaimed Bridget, "and why in the name of goodness am I to hate her?"

"Well, you must be a poor-spirited thing if you don't. May I ask if you would have got into your present scrape but for her? Have you not before this disobeyed Mrs. Freeman? Up to last night she took pity on you; she said to herself: 'Bridget knows nothing of the rules of the school; Bridget has never been accustomed to obey any rules, I will be merciful to her, I will be lenient, I will never forget that Biddy has been queen in her Irish home.'"

"Oh, don't talk to me about my home," said Bridget, her lips quivering, her eyes filling with tears.

"Yes; but is it not true, Bridget? Has not Mrs. Freeman been very lenient to you in the past?"

"I suppose she has. I never thought much about it. I scraped along somehow; I was happy enough."

"Well, was she lenient to you to-day?"

"Need you ask, Janet? I'm a prisoner; a close prisoner in this abominable room. Such treatment will soon kill me. I can't eat; I shall soon die of misery."

"It is hard on you, Bridget; you are exactly like a wild bird of the woods put into a cage."

"Yes, that's it; and the captive bird will break its heart."

"Poor Bridget! I didn't like you in your free days, but I'm willing to own that I pity you now."

"Thank you, thank you; but I hate pity. Whoever would think of offering pity to Bridget O'Hara at home?"

"But Bridget O'Hara is no longer at home; she is a captive in a strange land. Don't cry, Biddy. Let us leave sentimentalities now, and come to facts. Whom do you think you owe this severe treatment to?"

"I am sure I can't tell you."

"I can tell you, however. You owe it entirely—to Evelyn Percival."

"Now what do you mean? that nice girl whom I nearly killed?"

"You didn't nearly kill her; that's all stuff! Bridget, you don't know Evelyn Percival, but I do. Had any other girl been in the carriage when you and the children startled the horses, you would have been forgiven. Mrs. Freeman would still have remembered that you were unaccustomed to rules, and she would have tried to break you in gently and considerately; but as Evelyn happened to be the person whose delicate nerves sustained a shock, Mrs. Freeman was incapable of showing any mercy. Evelyn Percival poses in the school as a sort of saint. Nearly everyone bows down to her; Mrs. Freeman, head mistress though she is, is so influenced by her that you are sure to have a bad time in future."

"I shan't stand it; it isn't likely."

"You will be forced to stand it. If Evelyn gives the smallest suggestion about you, it will be certain to be followed out. I pity you, Bridget, but you are certainly likely to have a lively time."

"You don't mean to tell me," answered Bridget, "that I have to thank Miss Percival for this punishment; that it is at her instigation I am here?"

"You are certainly here at no one else's instigation."

"Did she tell Mrs. Freeman to make a close prisoner of me, and to starve me?"

"It is your own fault if you are starved, Bridget; don't exaggerate, my dear; you do no good by that. As to your being made a prisoner, you certainly owe it to Evelyn. She can say things, even though she does not put them into words."

"Oh, I understand," said Bridget. She turned again to look out of the window, and her impatient fingers once more played a tattoo on the glass.

"Evelyn is most popular," continued Janet, "for the simple reason that people don't read her through and through. I can see beneath that sweet, saintly calm, and I honestly say that I cannot bear her. Now, Bridget, if you will come on my side, if you will join me in opposing the pernicious influence that girl exercises, I can help you out of this scrape without allowing you to humiliate yourself, and I can at the same time put you up to having the nicest little revenge in the world on this delightful Miss Percival."

"But Dorothy believes in her, and Dorothy is so sweet and kind," exclaimed Bridget, in perplexity.

"Poor, dear Dolly," exclaimed Janet, "anyone can take her in; but you, my dear, although you are not very learned, are clever. However, this is your own concern. If you like to stay in this hot room until Mrs. Freeman breaks in your proud spirit, and if you like to submit to the many indignities which I can plainly see are before you, that, of course, is your affair. I thought it only kind to warn you, but perhaps I have interfered unwarrantably. If so, forgive me."

Janet rose as she spoke, and took a step or two toward the door.

"No, don't go," exclaimed Biddy. "You puzzle me very much; there's no one in the world who hates mean ways more than I do, and if Evelyn is that sort——"

"She is that sort, Bridget."

"Well, well!" Bridget turned again to the window.

"What am I to do, Janet?" she said, after a pause. Her tone was quite humble; there was a crushed expression in her face.

"Poor old thing!" said Janet, in her light, silvery voice. She went up to Bridget, and gave her a careless kiss on her cheek. She could afford to do this, for she knew the victory was hers.

"In the future I will be your friend," she said; "you may rely upon me. We are going to choose fresh chums in a week's time. Suppose we choose one another. I know we are not a bit alike, but that's just the very thing; opposites should keep together. However, there's time enough to settle that presently."

"Yes, quite time enough," said Bridget. "I thought that I'd take Dolly for my chum."

"You can't get her, my dear; she's bespoken to Evelyn long ago."

"That horrid Evelyn!" Bridget stamped her foot impatiently.

"Ah, I see, Biddy, that you and I will get on capitally. I could kiss you again, but kissing isn't my way. Now then to business. The first thing is to get you out of this room."

"How is that to be effected? Mrs. Freeman says that I am to stay here until I promise to obey the rules of the school. I can't obey them, so I suppose I'm to stay here until I die."

"And why can't you obey them, Bridget?"

"Why can't I obey the rules of the school? We are not likely to be chums if you talk to me in that fashion, Janet."

"Now, my dear, I must just reason with you a little. You say you can't obey the rules of the school; you say so because you fail to understand them. If you put yourself under my guidance, and I am quite willing to take charge of you, I will show you that you can obey them sufficiently to keep yourself out of all serious scrapes, and yet at the same time you will enjoy as much liberty as any girl need desire. Do you think I am unhappy on account of the rules of the school?"

"No; but you haven't got a wild heart like me."

"Poor Biddy, I'll take care of your wild heart. It was ill-natured of me not to see after you before, but in the future, my dear, you are quite safe. I am going to fetch Mrs. Freeman now."

"What in the world for?"

"To tell her that you will obey the rules, that you will cease to be an unruly member of the community, that you are going to be my chum."

"O Janet, but it's dreadful to promise and not to perform. I have been awfully naughty, I know, over and over and over again, but I have never stooped to breaking a promise."

"You shall not break this promise, for I won't let you, but I can show you a way to keep the fetters from galling. Now I am going to fetch Mrs. Freeman. It's worth your while to submit at once, Biddy, for I intend to take you for a row."

"A row on the water!" Bridget's eyes sparkled; she threw back her shoulders with a gesture of relief.

"Yes," repeated Janet, "a row on the water. The school boat is at our disposal this evening. Mademoiselle is coming to take charge of us, but, as she is really nobody, we shall practically be as free as air. Stay where you are, Biddy, until I fetch Mrs. Freeman."