Ethel Blue gave Gertrude Merriam's message to Edward Watkins who was as much puzzled by it as she had been.

"What does she mean?" he asked. "Does she care for me or doesn't she?"

"She doesn't know herself. I asked her."

Edward whistled a long, soft whistle.

"Aren't girls the queerest things ever made!" he ejaculated in wonder.

"I don't think it's queer," defended Ethel. "First, it was all guesswork with her because you never had told her that you cared. And then she was angry at your having talked about her when you hadn't talked to her. Her feelings were hurt badly. And now she doesn't know what she does feel."

"She isn't strong against Oklahoma, anyway. I guess I'll accept that offer."

Ethel Blue nodded.

"I want to tell you one thing more before you go," she said. "I haven't told any one a word about this, even Ethel Brown. It's the first thing in all my life I haven't told Ethel Brown."

"I suspect it's been pretty hard for you not to. You know I appreciate it. If things work out as I hope, it will be you who have helped me most," and he shook hands with her very seriously. "There's one thing more I wish you'd do for me," he pleaded.

Ethel Blue nodded assent.

"If I can."

"I know you Club people will be hanging May baskets on May Day morning. Will you hang this one on Miss Gertrude's door—the door of her room, so that there won't be any mistake about her getting it?"

"Certainly I will."

"It's just a little note to say 'good-bye.' See, you can read it."

"I don't want to," responded Ethel Blue stoutly, though it was hard to let good manners prevail over a desire to see the inside of the very first letter she had ever seen the outside of to know as the writing of a lover to his lass.

"You'd better tell your Aunt Marian that I've told you all this," he went on. "I shouldn't want her to think that I was asking you to do something underhand."

"She wouldn't think it of you. She likes you."

"Tell her about it all, nevertheless. I insist."

Ethel felt relieved. It had seemed queer to be doing something that no one knew about.

"Thank you," she said.

The May basket was duly hung, and Miss Gertrude's eyes wore the traces of tears all the rest of the day, but Ethel Blue was not to learn for a long time what was in the note.

May passed swiftly. All the boys were so busy studying that they could give but little time to Club meetings and there was nothing done beyond the making of some plans for the summer and the taking of a few long walks. The Ethels and Dorothy and Della were doing their best to make a superlative record, also. With Helen and Margaret life went more easily, for graduation days were yet two years off with them.