e when he arrived--an unfriendly
room which was seldom opened by the girls. But the lawyer shook hands
with Seneca and told him how glad he was to hear that his library had
been saved from the fire.

"One may say by a miracle," the prophet declared solemnly. "As Elijah
was fed by the raven in the wilderness, so was my treasure cared for in
time of stress."

He talked after that quite reasonably, and when the girls in their
pretty dresses fluttered to their seats about the table, and with Neale
O'Neil filled them all, the company being complete, Ruth, looked to
Seneca to ask a blessing.

His reverent grace, spoken humbly, was most fitting. Linda opened the
door. A great breath of warm, food-laden air rushed in. Uncle Rufus
appeared, proudly bearing the great turkey, browned beautifully and
fairly bursting with tenderness and--dressing!

"Oh-ee!" whispered ecstatically, the smallest Corner House girl. "He
looks so _noble_! Do--do you s'pose, Tess, that it will _hurt_ him when
Uncle Rufus carves?"

"My goodness!" exclaimed Neale, "it will hurt us if he doesn't carve the
turk. I couldn't imagine any greater punishment than to sit here and
taste the other good things and renege on that handsome bird."

But Seneca Sprague did not hear this comment. He ate heartily of the
plentiful supply of vegetables; but he would not taste the turkey or the
suet pudding.

It was a merry feast. They sat long over it. Uncle Rufus set the great
candelabra on the table and by the wax-light they cracked nuts and drank
sweet cider, and the younger ones listened to the stories of their
elders.

Even Aunt Sarah livened up. "My soul and body!" she croaked, with rather
a sour smile, it must be confessed, "I wonder what Peter Stower would
say to see me sitting here. Humph! He couldn't keep me out of my home
forever, could he?"

But nobody made any reply to that statement.

CHAPTER XXII

CLOUDS AND SUNSHINE

The day following Thanksgiving that year would ever be known as "Black
Friday" in the annals of Milton school history. And it came about like
this.

Professor Ware had given notice the Saturday previous that there would
be two rehearsals on that day of _The Carnation Countess_. The morning
rehearsal was for the choruses, the dance numbers and tableaux, and
especially for those halting Thespians whom the professor called "lame
ducks"--those who had such difficulty in learning their parts.

The afternoon rehearsal was the