and the Dragonette had passed in
and shut the door. Kid McCoy, returning from Paradise Alley, where she
had been stretched on her stomach with her face to the register,
reported that Patty had fainted through lack of food, that the Dowager
had revived her with whiskey, and that she had come to, still cheering
for the Union. Kid McCoy's statements, however, were apt to be touched
by imagination. The school was divided in its opinion of Patty's course.
The scabs were inclined to make light of her achievement, but Conny and
Priscilla staunchly fanned enthusiasm.

Finally, the schoolroom door opened, and the faculty emerged and passed
into the Dowager's private study, while the dancing commenced with
sudden fervor. No one to-day liked to be caught by Miss Lord whispering
in a corner.

Patty followed alone. Her face was pale, and there were weary circles
about her eyes, but in them shone the light of victory.

"Patty!"

"Are you dead?"

"How'd it come out?"

"It was perfectly splendid!"

"Was she furious?"

"What did she say?"

"We arbitrated the question and have settled on a compromise," Patty
replied with quiet dignity. "Hereafter the lesson will be seventy lines.
The Virgil strike is declared off."

They pressed about her eager for details, but she separated herself, and
kept on toward the dining-room door. There was an aloofness about her,
an air of having experienced the heights alone. She was not quite ready
to rub shoulders with common humanity.

The school settled itself to evening study, and Patty to her dinner.
They could see her across the court, through the lighted window, as she
sat in state at the end of a long table. Osaki on one side, tendered
preserved strawberries, and Maggie on the other, frosted cakes. The
rewards of martyrdom, in Patty's case, were solidly substantial.

IV

The Third Man from the End

"Oh, Patty! Did you bring us some wedding cake?"

"Did you have any adventures?"

Conny and Priscilla, with the dexterity of practice, sprang upon the
rear step of the hearse as it turned in at the school gate, and rolled
up the curving drive to the porte-cochere. The "hearse" was the popular
name for the black varnished wagonette which conveyed the pupils of St.
Ursula's from church and station. It was planned to accommodate twenty.
Patty and her suit-case, alone in the capacious interior, were jolting
about like two tiny peas in a very big pod.

"Adventures!" she called ba