Do you know who
it is?"

"Miss Puddicombe, I believe, daughter of one of the Board."

"Oh!"

The eyes of the other involuntarily followed the car.

"She dresses in all colors of the rainbow," laughed Miss Mullaly.
"It's queer, how little taste some people--But maybe she is a
friend of yours!"

"No, I never spoke to her. I have heard of her astonishing
combinations, though."

Polly came running back.

"Isn't it lovely that Doodles has his violin! He says when we get
tired and come to a nice place to rest, he will play to us. Aren't
you tired? I want somebody to be, so we can have the music. He
has learned some new pieces."

"I think there is a pretty grove not far ahead. Don't you remember
it?--There's a great rock at one side, and a little clump of young
birches near by."

"Oh, yes, next to a sheep pasture! That will be just the place!
I'll tell Doodles!"

But before the wood was reached, the party came upon a car by the
side of the road. Juanita Sterling had recognized it and longed to
run away.

"Why, it's Mr. Randolph!" discovered Miss Mullaly.

"Yes, he has tire trouble, I see."

The president of the Home was already talking with those ahead.

Polly came back.

"Mr. Randolph and Miss Puddicombe," she whispered. "He is
introducing her to the ladies."

Miss Sterling nodded and shrank away.

"I don't want to meet her," she objected. "I wonder if they'd
notice if we should cut across this lot."

"Oh, don't! I'm afraid they would."

The other looked longingly toward the way of escape while she
walked on with Polly.

Juanita Sterling and Blanche Puddicombe stood face to face, a
smiling "How do you do, Miss Puddicombe!" on one side, a gushing
"I'm charmed to meet you!" on the other, with a gingerly hand-shake
between.

Nelson Randolph was too busy with his tire for much talking, and,
as early as decency would allow, Miss Sterling by degrees slipped
into the background,

"Let's go on," she whispered, taking Miss Leatherland's arm.

The others straggled after, by twos and threes.

"Why didn't you stay longer?" questioned Polly, overtaking her
friend.

"There was nothing to stay for," she laughed.

"Miss Puddicombe said she would like to get acquainted with you."
Polly's tone had the inflection of disappointment.

"Very kind of her," was the quiet comment.

Polly glanced whimsically at Miss Sterling's face. "I guess that
is the grove you were speaking of," was what she sai