t case, ran
into Queen's Cottage without so much as ringing the bell.

Two juniors whom Molly had known only by sight the year before and
several freshmen had been in the Wellington omnibus; no one in whom she
could confide her enthusiasm as the 'bus turned a bend in the road and
Wellington's towers came into view.

"Molly! Molly!" cried a voice from somewhere in the upper regions of
Queen's, and down three flights of stairs rushed a wild figure, her
fluffy light brown hair standing out all over her head and her
voluminous kimono sailing behind her like the tail of a kite.

"Oh, Judy, it's good to see you again," cried Molly, and the two girls
were instantly folded in each other's arms in a long, loving embrace.

"You remind me strongly of Meg Merriles," continued Molly, holding her
friend off at arms' length and giving her a joyful little shake. "You
look as if you had been running over the moors in the wind."

"You'd think I was a bit daffy if you could see my room," replied Julia
Kean, who, those of you who have met her in an earlier story will
recall, was nicknamed "Judy" by her friends. "I'm unpacking. It looks
like the world in the era of chaos: mountains of clothes and islands of
shoes and archipelagoes of hats all jumbled into a hopeless mass. But,
never mind that now. Let's talk about each other. Come on upstairs. Your
room's ready. I looked in half an hour ago. You've got new wall paper
and a fresh coat of paint. That's because you are one of Mrs. Markham's
little pets."

"Really," cried Molly, delighted. "How charmed Nance will be. And I've
brought some white dimity curtains with ruffled edges to hang at the
windows. I made them last summer when it was ninety-eight in the shade.
Where is Nance, by the way? And where are all the Queen's girls, and
what new ones are here?"

"One at a time, Miss Brown," laughed Judy, following Molly up to the
third story and into the large room shared by Molly and her friend,
Nance Oldham.

"How sweet it's going to look," cried Molly, clasping her hands and
gazing around her with all the ardor of a returned wanderer. "But where
is Nance?"

Judy's face became very grave.

"Is it possible you haven't heard the news about Nance?" she said.

"Judy, what do you mean?" cried Molly, taking off her hat and running
her fingers through her rumpled auburn hair, a trick she had when she
was excited and overwrought. "Now, tell me at once what has happened to
Nance. How could yo