lly sorry can't come for supper. Writing."

"How perfectly dreadful," cried Marie, repeating the message to Bob, who
was standing beside her. Bob passed on the bad news, and the procession
broke up into little groups to discuss it.

"Why don't you appoint some one to take her place right now?" suggested
Bob. "Then she can sit up all night and get her remarks ready. She won't
have much time to-morrow."

Marie looked hastily around her and caught sight of Betty Wales standing
under a Japanese lantern that was still burning dimly.

"Betty!" she called, and Betty hurried over to her.

"I think we ought to fill Christy's place now," whispered Marie. "Shall
I appoint Eleanor Watson or have her elected?"

"Have her elected," said Betty, as promptly as if she had thought it
all out beforehand.

"Then will you propose her?"

Betty shook her head. "That wouldn't do. Eleanor knows how I feel toward
her. It must come from the people who haven't wanted her. They're all
here, I think." Betty peered uncertainly through the gloom to make sure
that Jean and her friends and the Blunderbuss were still out. "If the
whole class wants her badly enough, they'll think of her."

Marie stepped out into the light of the one lantern and called the class
to order. "It's a queer time to have a class-meeting," she said, "and
I'm not sure that it's constitutional, but who cares about that? You all
know about Christy and as Bob Parker says the new toastmistress ought to
have all the time there is left. So please make nominations."

"Why don't you appoint some one, Marie?" called Alice Waite sleepily.

"Because the toastmistress who presides over our supper ought to be the
choice of her class," said Marie firmly.

"Madam president,"--Jean Eastman's clear, sharp voice broke the
silence. "It's a good deal to ask of any one, to step in at the last
minute like this. Very few of us are capable of doing it,--of making a
success of it, I mean. In fact I only know of one person that I should
be absolutely sure of. Fortunately no one deserves such an appointment
more truly. I nominate Eleanor Watson."

A little thrill swept over the "queer" class-meeting. Everybody had
known more or less about the bitter feud between Jean and Eleanor, and
very few people had had the least suspicion that it had ended. Indeed
even Betty and Eleanor had not been sure how far Jean's friendliness
could be counted upon. Betty, standing back in the shadows where Marie
ha