namored of the Junior. It
did really seem very kind of her, however, to put herself out in this
way for two "Infants."

"How many teachers are there?" Helen was asking. "And are they all as
little as that Miss Picolet?"

"Oh, _she_!" ejaculated Mary Cox, with scorn. "Nobody pays any
attention to her. She's not liked, I can tell you."

"Why, she seemed nice enough to us--only not very friendly," said
Helen, slowly, for Helen was naturally a kind-hearted girl.

"She's a poverty-stricken little foreigner. She scarcely ever wears a
decent dress. I don't really see why Mrs. Tellingham has her at the
school at all. She has no friends, or relatives, or anybody that knows
her----"

"Oh, yes she has," said Helen, laughing.

"What do you mean?" inquired Mary Cox, suspiciously.

"We saw somebody on the boat coming over to Portageton that knew Miss
Picolet."

"Oh, Helen!" ejaculated Ruth, warningly.

But it was too late, Mary Cox wanted to know what Helen meant, and the
story of the fat man who had played the harp in the boat orchestra, and
who had frightened the French teacher, and had afterward talked so
earnestly with her on the dock, all came out in explanation. The
Junior listened with a quiet but unpleasant smile upon her face.

"That's just what we've always thought about Miss Picolet," she said.
"Her people must be dreadfully common. Friends with a ruffian who
plays a harp on a steamboat for his living! Well!"

"Perhaps he is no relative or friend of hers," suggested Ruth, timidly.
"Indeed, she seemed to be afraid of him."

"He's mixed up in her private affairs, at least," said Mary,
significantly. "I never could bear Miss Picolet!"

Ruth was very sorry that Helen had happened upon this unfortunate
subject. But her chum failed to see the significance of it, and the
girl from the Red Mill had no opportunity of warning Helen. Mary Cox,
too, was most friendly, and it seemed ungrateful to be anything but
frank and pleasant with her. Not many big girls (so thought both Ruth
and Helen) would have put themselves out to walk up to Briarwood Hall
with two Infants and their baggage.

Through breaks in the cedar grove the girls began to catch glimpses of
the brown old buildings of Briarwood Hall. Ivy masked the entire end
of one of the buildings, and even ran up the chimneys. It had been cut
away from the windows, and they showed brilliantly now with the
descending sun shining redly upon them.

"It'