to
go to a wedding with your hair all flat, just as they do it at a
hospital--I don't believe you'd like it yourself, Mrs. Puddicombe."

Several smiles were visible. A titter escaped the youngest member.

Mrs. Puddicombe's broad face reddened under her amazing labyrinth
of screwlike curls.

"These charity people," she resumed irrelevantly, "never know when
they're well off. Why, this Home is the very gate of heaven! Just
look at that new rug in the library--it cost three hundred dollars!
But who appreciates it?"

"Well, I should rather walk over a thirty-cent rug than every time
I turned round have to have a rule to turn by!" Polly tossed out
the words impetuously.

"You're a saucy girl!" returned Mrs. Puddicombe. "You'd better go
home and tell your father to teach you good manners." The
president rapped for order.

"I beg your pardon, if I was saucy," Polly hastened to say. "I
didn't mean to be. I was only thinking--"

"That will do," interrupted Mrs. Beers. "There has been too much
time given to a very trivial matter."

Polly walked away from the June Holiday Home in the company of
uneasy thoughts. She feared she had made matters worse for her
dear Miss Nita.

CHAPTER IV

A JUNE HOLIDAY

The wedding night brought no recall of the negative answer which
Miss Sniffen had given to Juanita Sterling, although the little
woman hoped until the last moment for some sign of relenting.

But Polly was on hand to braid the thick, soft hair into a becoming
coronet, and to assert that she knew the bride wouldn't look half
so pretty.

Several days after, Polly danced in, her face full of the morning.

"You feel pretty well, don't you?" she began in her most coaxing
way.

"A little better than usual," Miss Sterling laughed. "What do you
want me to do?"

"You know David and Leonora and I went down to Fern Brook last
week," Polly began deliberately, seating herself in the rocker
which Miss Sterling did not like, "and ever since then I've been
wishing it would come a lovely day for you and me to have a little
picnic all by ourselves. Or we might ask one or two others, if you
like. Will you, Miss Nita? You'll break my heart if you say no--I
see it coming! Just say, 'I should be de-e-lighted to go!'"

"Oh, I'd love to, but--"

"No, there isn't a 'but' or an 'if' or anything! We're going! Who
else do you want?"

"You crazy child! I'm afraid it will use me up. I don't dare risk
it. We'll