disheveled hair. Miss Castlevaine arose haughtily. Polly's tongue
was quickest to recover itself.

"I was only teaching the ladies some exercises to make them strong.
We are not doing any harm, Miss Sniffen."

"I infer that it makes them stronger to pull their hair down." The
tone was smoothly sarcastic.

"Oh, that!" returned Polly, with a tiny smile; "I've been telling
them how to massage the scalp, so as to make their hair grow."

"Very necessary, indeed! And I suppose their hair grows faster if
they stretch themselves out upon the bed and the floor! I'm
ashamed of you!"

"Oh, Miss Sniffen!" protested Polly, "you have to lie down to take
these exercises! The book says so!"

"Book!" snapped the angry voice; "I'll book you all for what you
won't like if I ever catch you in such unladylike postures again!
You must be in your second childhood! Now march to your rooms,
every one of you!" She waved her hand peremptorily toward the
doorway, and the culprits filed meekly past her--all but Miss
Castlevaine. She walked with stately step and head held high, as
became the great-granddaughter of a duchess.

"I think you would better go home now, you have worked mischief
enough for one day!" She addressed Polly in a slightly mollified
tone.

"Why, Miss Sniffen, I can't see what harm there is in trying to get
well and strong. I should think you'd like the ladies to be
better. Father and mother think these exercises are fine!
Mother's Grandaunt Susie told us about them. They made her as good
as new!"

"We won't discuss the matter," replied the superintendent in a hard
voice. "You need not remain to talk it over with Miss Sterling."

"I'm going--right now!" Polly caught up her coat.

"Good-bye, Miss Nita!" She swept past Miss Sniffen with a curt bow.

The door tight shut, Juanita Sterling fisted the air in the
direction of the departing superintendent. Then she drooped her
head and sobbed.

CHAPTER XVIII

VICTOR VON DALIN

For several days the weather was showery, not very pleasant for
walking, and Polly stayed away from the June Holiday Home.

"What will Miss Nita think!" she mourned. "Miss Sniffen has
probably forgotten by this time that she sent me home. Wouldn't it
do for me to go over for just a little while this fore-noon, while
the officers are all busy?"

"I think you had better wait until Saturday," her mother decided.

So Polly sighed and ran off to write a little note to her