g
very much like a culprit who had drawn her friends into mischief.

That night they packed their belongings, and not once by the blink of
an eyelash did Judy or Nance show what they felt about leaving Queen's
forever. At last with walls cleared of pictures, curtains neatly folded,
books piled into boxes and rugs rolled up, the three girls went to bed,
worn out with the day's labors and emotions.

In the night, Nance, shivering, crawled into Molly's bed and brought all
her covering with her. Under a double layer of comforts they snuggled
while the thermometer went down, down until it reached ten degrees below
zero.

CHAPTER XIX.

HOW O'REILLY'S BECAME QUEEN'S.

Molly often looked back on that famous bitter Monday as the most
exciting day of her entire life. Surprises began in the morning when
they learned for a fact that it was ten degrees below zero. Barometers
in a house always make the weather seem ten times worse. In the night
the water pipes had burst and flooded the kitchen floor, which by
morning was covered with a layer of ice. On this, the unfortunate Mrs.
Murphy, entering unawares, slipped and sprained her ankle. The gas was
frozen, and neither the gas nor the coal range could be used that
eventful morning. The girls prepared their own breakfasts on chafing
dishes, and wrapped in blankets they shivered over the registers, up
which rose a thin stream of heat that made but a feeble impression on
the freezing atmosphere.

"We do look something like a mass meeting of Siberian exiles," observed
Judy grimly, looking about her in Chapel a little later.

Miss Walker herself wore a long fur coat and a pair of arctic shoes and
in the assembled company of students there appeared every variety of
winter covering known to the civilized world, apparently: ulsters, golf
capes, fur coats, sweaters, steamer rugs and shawls.

Molly was numb with cold; fur coats were the only garments warm enough
that day, and a blue sweater under a gray cloth jacket was as nothing
against the frigid atmosphere.

"Bed's the only comfortable place to be in," she whispered to Judy, "and
here we've got classes till twelve thirty and moving in the afternoon!
The trunks are going this morning. Oh, heavens, how I do dread it!"

"At least O'Reilly's couldn't be any colder than Queen's is at present,"
replied Judy, "and there's a grate in the room I am to have. We'll have
a big coal fire and cheer things up considerably."

Everythi