at is
termed an all-round girl, both cultured and broad minded, a rare
combination of character to find in a girl still in a preparatory
school. She was as quick as a flash to detect deceit and yet gentle as
one of the Babes in settling all matters where there was a question of
actual intention. The benefit of the doubt was her maxim, and, as
president of the Glenwood Club, the membership of which included girls
from all the ranks, there was plenty of opportunity for Rose-Mary to
exercise her benificence.

Viola Green had, as promised, resigned from office in the Nicks, and
what was more she had organized a society in direct opposition to its
principles. All the girls who had not done well in the old club
readily fell in with the promises of the new order, and soon Viola had
a distinct following--the girls with grievances against Rose-Mary,
imagined or otherwise. Molly Richards kept her "eye pealed for bombs,"
she told Dorothy, and declared the "rebs" would be heard from sooner or
later in the midst of smokeless powder.

"It's a conspiracy against someone," announced Molly to Rose-Mary one
evening. "I heard them hatching the plot and--well I wouldn't like to
be unfair, but that Viola does hate Dorothy."

"She can never hurt Dorothy Dale," answered the upright president of
the Glenwood Club. "She is beyond all that sort of thing."

But little did she know how Viola Green could hurt Dorothy Dale. Less
did she think how serious could be the "hurt" inflicted.

The mid-year examinations had passed off, and the Dalton girls held
their own through the auspicious event. Dorothy showed a splendid
fundamental education; that which fits a girl for clear study in
subsequent undertakings, and that which is so often the result of the
good solid training given in country schools where methods are not
continually changing. Tavia surprised herself with getting through
better than she had hoped, and credited her good luck to some plain
facts picked up in the dear old Dalton schoolroom.

But a letter from home disturbed Tavia's pleasant Glenwood life--her
father wrote of the illness of Mrs. Travers and said it was necessary
that their daughter should come home. For a few weeks only, the
missive read, just while the mother had time to rest up and recover her
strength--the illness was nothing of a serious nature.

It did not seem possible that Tavia was packed and gone and that
Dorothy was left in the school. A sense of t