nd takes no pleasure in play, besides being
over-studious, she is bound to be "queer."

And such was Mary Mahon.

When Dorothy threw open the parlor door after the rehearsal her face was
radiant. She was pleased--delighted with Mary, and the girls waiting to be
admitted to the "hall" exchanged knowing glances when Dorothy told them
the room was ready.

Tom and Roland were there, Agnes Sinclair, Mabel Hastings, Ned, and Nat,
of course; Tavia was with Eva Brownlie, chatting as if there was nothing
else to be done that evening; Betty Bindley managed to get her dainty
little self secure with Harold Osborne (Handsome Harold, they called him),
and other members of the auxiliary and their friends were there ready to
begin the work of rehearsing and decorating.

Besides the pictures there was to be music--the Brownlie girls played the
violin beautifully, and Dorothy was an acknowledged pianist; then Agnes
Sinclair was to entertain with monologues, and the boys were to have a
vocal double quartette.

The arranging of this program involved considerable work, so to-night
there was no time to be wasted.

"Let's get the wreaths first," proposed Dorothy. "We shall need such long
strings to go all around the room. While some of us are at these, others
can be going through their parts."

Tom grabbed a huge mass of broken laurel branches, made his way to a
corner, placed two chairs before the pile of greens and deliberately
sought out Dorothy.

"Come," he said very kindly, "I've got a quiet job for you. You usually
get too much of the all-around business. Let us run a race making the
wreath, or strings, I suppose you want. Here, Ned," he called across the
room, "get your stuff and your girl, and I'll race you for a mile of green
string."

Could anything be more inopportune? To select Dorothy to be his partner
against Ned in a race!

But the idea of a contest was quickly taken up by the others, so that soon
the party had paired off, and racing with the strings of laurel became a
matter of enjoyment, and not a question of work.

Dorothy took her place with Tom; Agnes Sinclair was with Ned; Nat went to
work with Eva Brownlie, and Tavia sat beside Roland.

How quickly the fingers flew! And how soon the small sprigs of green were
twined into long, soft garlands!

"I'll keep tally," proffered Edith Brownlie, glad to escape the more
certain duty of tying the cords about the boughs.

For an hour all worked and chatted gaily, t