some
bewitching ringlets; the other, in a gorgeous Turkish costume, was
enveloped in a shimmering gauze veil.

"Who are those?" Ingred asked her partner.

But Verity could not tell.

In the twilight it was, of course, easy to make mistakes, but Ingred
began to have a strong suspicion that neither of the mysterious partners
belonged to the school. They were certainly not members of the Fifth or
Sixth. Perhaps some of the Juniors had forced themselves in? No, they
were too tall for Juniors.

"Perhaps they are ghosts!" shivered Verity.

"Ghosts don't bump into people. These are real substantial flesh and
blood!"

"It's so dark, we can hardly see."

"Well, I vote we keep close to them, and next time we get near a
lantern, we'll turn the tables and bump into them, and try to see who
they are."

It was easier said than done, however; the strangers seemed to have
changed their tactics, and instead of pursuing Ingred and Verity now
endeavored to avoid them. No "elusive Pimpernels" could have been more
difficult to follow. They would come quite close and then suddenly dodge
and glide away, only to reappear and repeat the same tantalizing
performance. Ingred and Verity began to get on their mettle. It was so
evidently done on purpose that they were fully determined to catch the
errant pair. After a long game at hide-and-seek they at last managed to
dance along side them, and laying violent hands upon them, to drag them
into the light of a lantern. As Ingred gazed for a moment in perplexity,
the Early Victorian lady gave a most un-Early Victorian wink inside the
poke bonnet.

"Hereward! How _dare_ you!" gasped his sister.

A firm hand drew her away from the light, and in the shelter of a laurel
bush, a voice, choking with laughter, proclaimed:

"Done you, old girl! Done you brown! What about that bet? I told you
you'd never know me!"

"You abominable young wretch," replied Ingred, laughing in spite of
herself. "How _did_ you manage it? And who is your friend?"

"Allow me to introduce Vashti, Queen of Persia!"

"Bunkum! It's a boy! I know it is!"

The explosive sounds issuing from under the shimmering veil of Queen
Vashti certainly sounded more masculine than feminine, and that Persian
princess confessed presently to the name of Franklin.

"He's a chum of mine," explained Hereward, "and he lives close by, so we
made it up to come together. His sister lent us the clothes and dressed
us. I say, your Prioress nev