the Morris chair
so that it faced the window and sat down again quietly with her book.

At the end of three-quarters of an hour, Otoyo began to move noiselessly
about the room. Molly was still sitting in the big arm-chair, her hands
clasped in her lap. Presently she became aware that Otoyo was standing
silently before her bearing a lacquer tray on which was a cup of tea and
a rice cake.

"Otoyo, you sweet, little dear," she said, placing the tray on the arm
of the chair. She gulped down the tea and ate the cake, and while the
small hostess made another cupful, Molly continued: "Otoyo, I'm going to
let God manage my affairs hereafter. I'm not going to lie on the floor
any more and kick and scream like a spoiled child for another piece of
chocolate cake. I shall always carry an umbrella now when I pray for
rain, and I mean to begin to-night to polish up in math."

"I am happily glad," said Otoyo, giving her a gentle, sympathetic
smile.

CHAPTER X.

ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL.

There was no happier girl in Wellington one morning than Nance Oldham,
and all because she had been invited to the Thanksgiving dance at Exmoor
College. Nance had never been to a real dance in her life, except a
"shirtwaist" party at the seashore, where she had been a hopeless
wallflower because she had known only one man in the room--her father.
Now, there was no chance of being a wallflower at Exmoor, where a girl's
card was made out beforehand, and she had that warm glow of predestined
success from the very beginning of the festivity.

Molly and Judy were also invited and the girls were to go over to Exmoor
on the 6.45 trolley with Dr. and Mrs. McLean and return on the 10.45
trolley, permission having been granted them to stay up until midnight.
Three other Wellington girls were bound for the dance on the same car.
A young teacher chaperoned this little company, of which Judith Blount
was one.

"I wonder that Judith Blount can make up her mind to go to a dance,"
Judy Kean remarked to Molly. "She's been in such a sullen rage for so
long, she's turned quite yellow. I don't think she will enjoy it."

"It will do her good," answered Molly. "Dancing always makes people
forget their troubles. Just trying to be graceful puts one in a good
humor."

"The scientific reason is, child, that it stirs up one's circulation."

"And brooding is bad for the circulation," added Molly.

It had been a very gloomy holiday, the skies black and lo