er, enclosing a letter from Larry," she
announced. "This is what he says:

"'DEAR OLD BUNTING,

"'I hope you're getting on all serene at school, and haven't
spoilt the carpets with salt tears. I'm ordered to the Camp at
Denley, and shall be going there to-morrow. I promised if I went
I'd look you up and take you out to tea somewhere. If I can get
leave I'll call on Saturday afternoon at Brackenfield for you
and Squibs, so be on the look-out for me. The Mater will square
your Head. Love to Squibs and your little self.

"'Your affectionate
"'LARRY.'"

"Oh, I say, what gorgeous fun!" exclaimed Marjorie. "So he's sent to the
Denley Camp after all. It's just on the other side of Whitecliffe. How
absolutely topping to go out to tea with Larry! I hope he'll get leave."

The girls confided their exciting news to their room-mates and their
most intimate friends, with the result that on Saturday afternoon at
least sixteen heads were peeping out of windows on the qui vive to see
the interesting visitor arrive.

When a figure in khaki strode up the drive and rang the front-door bell
the event was signalled from one hostel to another. Now Mrs. Morrison
was very faithful to her duties as Principal, and during term-time
rarely allowed herself a holiday; but it happened on this particular
Saturday that she went for the day to visit friends, and appointed Miss
Norton deputy in her absence.

Larry Anderson was shown by the parlour-maid into the drawing-room where
parents were generally received, and left there to wait while his
presence was announced. After an interval of about ten minutes, during
which he studied the photographs of the school teams that ornamented the
mantelpiece, the door opened, and a tall fair lady with light-grey eyes
and pince-nez entered.

"Mrs. Morrison, I presume?" he enquired courteously.

"I am Miss Norton," was the reply. "Mrs. Morrison is away to-day, and
has left me in charge. Can I do anything for you?"

"I've come to see my sisters, Marjorie and Dona Anderson, and to ask if
I may take them in to Whitecliffe for an hour or so."

"I'm sorry," freezingly, "but that is quite impossible. It is against
the rules of the school."

"Yes, of course I know they're not usually allowed out, but the Mater--I
mean my mother--wrote to Mrs. Morrison to ask her to let the girls go."

"Mrs. Morrison left me no instructions on the subject."

"But didn't she give y