oes and spoils a perfectly splendid chance to earn a lot of
money."

"That's the third or fourth time you've said that about Jack," cried
Rosemary, stung into speech at last. "What has he done to spoil
anything? I don't see."

"Why I should think you would," said Fannie, while Nina nodded
sagely. "The Gordon boys and Eustice and Norman and Ben are as poor
as can be; they want the money for themselves, and Will says they
jumped at the chance to earn it. Don't you see, it will keep that
much out of the dramatic fund, and Jack could just as well have
appointed boys who could have been glad to turn over the money to
the school. Will calls it a disgusting lack of class spirit."

Rosemary's blue eyes snapped and fire burned in her cheeks.

"There's nothing the matter with Jack Welles' class spirit, Fannie
Mears!" she cried. "I should think you would be ashamed to repeat
anything like that, I don't care who said it."

"Well I'm not the only one who said it, or Will, either," declared
Fannie, rising as the warning bell sounded. "The president of the
Student Council told him what he thought of him, all right."

Inwardly seething, Rosemary managed to get away to her class room
without further argument. She had never liked Fannie Mears, she told
herself and now she almost hated her. As for Will Mears, president
of the High School Juniors, well he wasn't a bit better. What a
disagreeable family the Mears must be!

It was cooking class day, and Rosemary stayed almost an hour after
school that night, "puttering" as Miss Parsons called it, about the
school kitchen. Sarah and Shirley went home without her, and she was
walking briskly along alone, tramping hardily through the snow late
that afternoon, when Jack Welles overtook her.

"How's the soup?" he asked cheerfully, that being a stock question
of his ever since the fateful Institute dinner.

"How's the Student Council?" asked Rosemary.

Jack's open face changed.

"What do you know about the Student Council?" he said gruffly.

"Oh, I heard--something," replied Rosemary. "Was Frank Fenton
unfair, Jack?"

"Well, he doesn't think so," said Jack, "I suppose you girls have
been gossiping and you might as well get the story straight," he
added.

Rosemary nodded eagerly.

"I hope the Gray boys and the others will shovel snow," she cried
impulsively. "I don't give a fig for the old dramatic fund, Jack."

"I do," said Jack. "It's all right to turn the snow money into the