IT seemed too bad for such a delightful day to end sorrowfully, but the evening paper certainly brought disquieting news. It stated that the School Board hoped to provide, within a very few days, suitable schoolrooms for all the pupils. And, in another item, the unfeeling editor complimented the Board on its enterprise.

"I'd like that Board a whole lot better," said Marjory, "if it weren't so enterprising. I s'posed we were going to have at least a month to play in."

"Just before Christmas, too," grumbled Mabel. "They might at least have waited until I'd finished Father's shoe-bag. And what do you think? Mother says I'd better give that Janitor a Christmas present!"

"Perhaps the paper is mistaken," soothed Jean. "You know it always is about the weather reports. If it says 'Fair,' it's sure to rain; and when it says 'Colder,' it's quite certain to be warm. Besides, there isn't a place in town big enough for all that school."

But this time it was Jean and not the paper that was mistaken. In just a few days the School Board announced that its hopes were realized. It had found "suitable quarters" for all the classes. Two grades went into the basement of the Baptist Church. The underground portion of the Methodist edifice accommodated two more. The A. O. U. W. Hall opened its doors to three others. A benevolent private citizen took in the kindergarten. A downtown store hastily transformed itself from an unsuccessful harness shop into nearly as unsuccessful a haven for two other grades. The City Hall gave up its Council Chamber to the Seniors, and the Masons loaned their dining-room to the Juniors, without, however, providing any refreshment. The enterprising Board had telegraphed for desks the very day of the fire; and as soon as that dreadfully prompt furniture arrived, it was remorselessly screwed into place. The Stationer, too, had speedily ordered books. They, too, traveled with unseemly haste from New York to Lakeville. By Thursday, less than a week after the fire, there were desks and seats and books for everybody; and would you believe it, they even kept school on Saturday, that week!

And now, an utterly unforeseen thing happened. Hitherto Jean, who was usually the first to be ready, had stopped for Marjory and Bettie. All three had stopped to finish dressing Mabel, who always needed a great deal of assistance, and then all four had walked merrily to school together. But now this happy scheme was entirely ruined, for here was Jean doing algebra under the Baptist roof, Bettie struggling with grammar in the Methodist basement, Marjory climbing two long flights of stairs to the A. O. U. W. Hall and Mabel passing six saloons to reach her desk in the made-over harness shop.

"It isn't just what we'd choose," apologized the School Board, "but it won't last forever. We'll build just as soon as we can."

Except for the inconvenience of having to go to school separately the children were rather pleased with the novelty of moving into such unusual quarters as the Board had provided; but the mothers were not at all satisfied.

"That Baptist cellar is damp and Jean's throat is delicate," complained Mrs. Mapes. "I know she'll be sick half the winter; but of course she'll have to go to school there as long as there's no better place."

"That Methodist Church is no place for children," declared Mrs. Tucker. "Its brick walls were condemned seven years ago and it's likely to fall down at any moment, even if they did brace it up with iron bands. But Bettie's too far behind now for me to take her out of school, so I suppose she'll just have to risk having that church tumble in on her."

"It's a shame," sputtered Aunty Jane, "for Marjory to climb all those stairs twice a day. It's all very well for the Ancient Order of United Workmen to climb two flights with grown-up legs, but it isn't right for delicate girls. However, there's no help for it just now, and I can't say I blame the child for sliding down the banisters, though of course I do scold her for it."

"There are saloons on both sides of that harness shop," said Mrs. Bennett, "and six more this side of it, besides a livery stable that is always full of loafers and bad language. Mabel has never been allowed to go to that part of town alone, and now I have to send a maid with her twice a day. But of course she has to go, even if the maid is more timid than Mabel is."

"By next year," consoled the Board, "we'll have a bigger and better schoolhouse than the old one. In the meantime we must all have patience."

Except that Mabel, without the others to get her started, was always late and that Bettie, without Marjory to coach her on the way, found it difficult to learn her lessons, school life went on very much as usual, for matters soon settled down as things always do and Lakeville turned its attention to fresher problems.

Poor Bettie, indeed, was busier than ever because Miss Rossitor, the Domestic Science teacher, whose classes were temporarily housed in the Methodist kitchen, discovered that Bettie could draw. Every day or two she asked Bettie to remain after school to copy needed illustrations on the blackboard. One day, Miss Rossitor demanded a cow. She needed it, she explained, to show her class the different cuts of meat.

"A side view of a plain cow," said she.

"I think," said Bettie, reflectively nibbling the fresh stick of chalk, "that I could do the outside of that cow, but I know I couldn't get his veal cutlets in the proper spot."

"I'll give you a diagram," smiled Miss Rossitor, "for I see very plainly, that it wouldn't be safe not to."

"Perhaps Miss Bettie thinks," ventured a belated pupil, a pink-cheeked girl with an impertinent nose, "that one cow is a whole butcher shop."

"Well," returned Miss Rossitor, meaningly, "it isn't a great while since some other folks were of the same opinion. But, since you are now so very much wiser, you may label the parts after Bettie has drawn them."

The girl made such a comical face that Bettie's gravity was in sad danger, but she accepted the chalk. On the cow's shoulder she printed "Pork sausages," on the flank, "Mutton chops," on the backbone, "Oysters on the half-shell," on the breast, "buttons."

Bettie looked puzzled and doubtful but Miss Rossitor laughed outright.

"Henrietta Bedford," she said, "you're a complete humbug. If you don't settle down to business you won't get home to-night."

"I'm going to walk home with Bettie," returned Henrietta, quickly substituting the proper labels. "I can easily write out that luncheon menu while she's putting feathers on the cow's tail."

And the new girl did walk home with Bettie, and teased her so merrily all the long way that Bettie didn't know whether to like her or not.

Near the Cottage they met Jean, Marjory and Mabel just starting out to look for belated Bettie.

"This," said Bettie introducing her new acquaintance, "is Henrietta—Henrietta——"

"Plantagenet," assisted Henrietta Bedford, smoothly. "I am really a Duchess in disguise, but I've left all my retainers in Ohio and I'm simply dying for friends. This is my day for collecting them—I always collect friends on Tuesdays. You are indeed fortunate to have happened upon me on Tuesday. But, Elizabeth, why not finish your introductions?"

"This," obeyed overwhelmed Bettie, "is Jean, this is Marjory and this is Mabel Bennett."

"What! The Damsel of the Dust-chute! I am indeed honored."

Then, as her quick eye traveled over Mabel's plump figure, Henrietta added wickedly:

"Was that chute built to fit?"

Mabel flushed angrily.

"It is I," apologized Henrietta, "that should wear those blushes. Forgive me, dear Damsel. I have an over-quick tongue and all my speeches are followed by repentance. But I have a warm heart and I'm really much nicer than I sound. See, I kneel at your insulted feet."

Whereupon this ridiculous girl with the impertinent nose flopped down on her knees on the sidewalk and made such comically repentant faces that all four giggled merrily.

"Get up, you goose," laughed Mabel. "Your apology is accepted."

"Come along with us," urged Jean. "We're going to have hot chocolate at our house. Mother is trying to fatten Marjory, Bettie and me."

"She seems to succeed best with—hum—no personal remarks, please. Dear maiden, I will inspect your home from the outside, but I regret that I'm strictly forbidden to go inside any strange house without my grandmother's permission. You'll have to call on me first. She is very particular in such matters. But," added Henrietta, with a sudden twinkle, "I'm not. So, if you'll kindly rush in and make that chocolate, there's no earthly reason why I shouldn't stand just outside your gate and drink it."

"Oh," cried Bettie, "is it possible that you're Mrs. Howard Slater's new granddaughter?"

"I am," admitted Henrietta, "but I'm not so new as you seem to think. She has owned me for fourteen years. Now, hustle up that chocolate. I've just remembered that I'm to have a dress tried on at four. It is now half-past."