Winifred Marion Brown, in addition to his ability as a checker player,
was a good pianist, and he obligingly played for them to dance. The piano
belonged to the Tucker twins. Norma and Alice were "rushed" with
partners, and they quite forgot their clothes in the enjoyment of dancing
to irresistible music.

Libbie had brought a book of poems for Timothy Derby, who solemnly loaned
her one of his in exchange. This odd pair remained impervious to all
criticisms, and certainly many of those voiced were frank to the point of
painfulness.

"But their natures can not understand the lyric appeal," said Libbie
sadly. Her English teacher moaned over her spelling and rejoiced in
her themes.

Finally Miss Anderson insisted they must go, and the bouquet of flowers
on the tea table was plucked apart to reveal nine little individual
bouquets, one for each guest.

"Good-bye, and thank you for a lovely party," said Miss Anderson gaily.

"Do you know?" blurted Teddy Tucker, "you're my idea of a chaperone! Most
of 'em are such dubs and kill-joys!"

Which tactful speech proved to be the best Teddy could have made.

A week of small pleasures and hard study followed this "glorious Friday
afternoon."

Bobby, for a wonder, remembered her promise of good behavior, and by
herculean effort managed to be on the "starred" list for the Saturday set
aside for the nutting expedition.

"We'll go after lunch," planned Betty. "Miss Anderson says if we strike
off toward the woods at the back of the school we ought to come to a
grove of hickory nut trees."

The eight girls, ready for their tramp, came in to lunch attired in heavy
wool skirts and stout shoes and carried their sweaters. Ada Nansen
glanced complacently at her own suede pumps and silk stockings.

"It's hard to tell which is really the farmer's daughter to-day," she
drawled. "Perhaps we all ought to assume that uniform out of kindness."

Ada sat at the table directly behind Norma, and not a girl at either
table could possibly miss the significance of her remarks. Their import,
it developed, had been plain to Miss Lacey who, on her way to her own
table, had overheard. Miss Lacey was a quiet, rather drab little woman,
misleading in her effacement of self. She knew more about her pupils than
they often suspected.

"Ada," she said quietly, stopping by the girl, "you may leave the table.
If you will persist in acting like a naughty little six year old girl,
you must be treated as o