advised by her former teacher in Tillbury, had brought her books to
Pine Camp, and had studied faithfully along the lines of the high school
work. She was sure she could pass quite as good an entrance examination
for Lakeview Hall as Bess could.

And at last good news came from Scotland:

"I am not quite ready to bring Momsey home," Papa Sherwood wrote. "But
the matter of her fortune is at least partially settled. The claims of
the other relatives have been disallowed. Mr. Andrew Blake is prepared
to turn over to your Momsey a part of her wonderful fortune. The rest
will come later. She will tell you all about it herself.

"What I wish to say to you particularly in this letter," pursued Mr.
Sherwood, "is, that arrangements have been made for you to attend
Lakeview Hall this coming semester. You will meet your friend, Elizabeth
Harley, in Chicago, and will go with her to the school. I am writing by
this mail to the principal of the Hall. Mr. Harley has made all other
necessary arrangements for you."

"Oh!" cried Nan, clasping her hands. "It's too good to be true! It can't
be possible! I just know I'll wake up in a minute and find all this an
exciting dream, and that's all!"

But Nan was wrong on that point, as the reader will see if her further
adventures are followed in the next volume of the series, entitled, "Nan
Sherwood at Lakeview Hall, or, The Mystery of the Haunted Boathouse."

While Nan was still intensely excited over this letter from Scotland,
Toby Vanderwiller drove up to the Sherwood house behind his broken-kneed
pony. This was the first time any of the Sherwoods had seen him since
the day of the big storm and the fire in the sawdust.

Chapter XXX. OFF FOR LAKEVIEW HALL

Nan ran out immediately to speak to the old lumberman; but Toby was
calling for Uncle Henry:

"Hey, Hen! Hen Sherwood! Come out yere," he cried.

Uncle Henry halloaed from the stables, and came striding at the call.
Nan reached the old rattletrap wagon first.

"Oh, Mr. Vanderwiller!" she said. "I am glad to see you! And how is your
wife and Corson?"

He looked down at her reflectively, and for a moment did not say a word.
Then he swallowed something and said, jerkily:

"An' you're the one that done it all, Sissy! The ol' woman an' the boy
air as chipper as bluejays. An' they air a honin' for a sight on you."

"Yes. I haven't been over lately. But that man from Chicago came, didn't
he?"

"I sh'd say 'yes'! He come," sai