allowances, because they are
particularly useful at Christmas time."

"But will the girls want to give their allowances?"

"We'll fix it so they'll have to," said Patty. "We'll call a mass
meeting and make a speech. Then everybody will file past and sign a
paper. No one will dare refuse with the school looking on."

Patty's fire kindled an answering flame in the other two.

"It is a good idea!" Conny declared.

"And it would be a lark, fixing the house," said Priscilla. "Almost as
much fun as getting married ourselves."

"Exactly," Patty nodded. "Those poor old things haven't had a chance to
see each other alone for years. We'll give 'em a honeymoon all over
again."

Patty was outwardly occupied with geometry the next hour, but her mind
was busy hemming sheets and towels and tablecloths. It being Thursday
evening, the hour between eight and nine was occupied with "manners."
The girls took turns in coming gracefully downstairs, entering the
drawing-room, announced by Claire du Bois in the role of footman, and
shaking hands with their hostesses--Conny Wilder, as dowager mama, and
towering above her, as debutante daughter, Irene McCullough, the
biggest girl in the school. The gymnasium teacher who assigned the
roles, had a sense of humor. An appropriate remark was expected from
each guest, the weather being barred.

"Mrs. Wilder!" Priscilla gushed, advancing with outstretched hand, "and
dear little Irene! It doesn't seem possible that the child is actually
grown. It was only yesterday that she was a mite of a thing toddling
about--"

Priscilla was shoved on by Patty.

"Me dear Mrs. Wilder," she inquired in a brogue that would have put the
Murphys to shame, "have ye heard the news that's goin' round? Mr. and
Mrs. Tammas Flannigan have taken the Laurel Cottage for the season. They
are thinkin' of startin' a salon. They will be at home ivery afternoon
during recreation hour--and will serve limonade and gingerbread in
summer, and soup and sandwiches in winter. Ye must take Irene to call on
thim."

The moment "manners" was over, the three withdrew to the seclusion of
Patty's and Conny's room in Paradise Alley, and closed the door against
callers. Between nine and nine-thirty was the fashionable calling hour
at St. Ursula's. The time was supposed to be occupied in getting ready
for bed, but if one were clever about undressing in the dark, one might
devote the thirty minutes to social purposes.

"Gone to sleep! Do