the end of the hour, Lloyd looked so much
brighter and better that she gave her an unexpected furlough.

"There, run along to your room with the other girls. I'll expect you
back at bedtime, for I want to keep you under my wing one more night,
but you're at liberty till then on one condition,--you're not to look
into a book."

"I'll promise! Oh, I'll promise!" cried Lloyd, impetuously throwing her
arms around the nurse. "You're _such_ a deah! Not that I'm anxious to
get away from you," she added, fearing that her delight might be
misunderstood. "But I just want to get _out_!"

True to her promise, Lloyd opened no books, but, flying to her room, she
took out one of the uncompleted Christmas gifts, a pair of bedroom
slippers, and worked with feverish haste until dinner was ready. It was
good to be at the table again with the other girls after her week of
solitary meals in the nursery. Afterward it was a temptation to linger
in the library talking with them, but the thought of the many tasks
undone sent her hurrying back to her room.

Betty followed presently with the Walton girls, and they all worked
steadily on their various gifts until the bell rang for the evening
study hour. Then Allison and Kitty reluctantly departed, and Betty took
out her algebra. Lloyd crocheted in silence for half an hour longer, her
fingers flying faster and faster in her eagerness to complete the task.
Finally she laid it down with a sigh of relief.

"There!" she exclaimed aloud. "That's done. They're all ready for the
bows. Now, thank fortune, I can check them off my list."

Betty looked up with an absent-minded smile, nodded approvingly at the
finished slippers standing on the table, and then went on with her
problems. Lloyd opened her bureau-drawer to search for the ribbon which
she had bought for the bows. As she rummaged through it, her hand
touched the little sandalwood box that held the unfinished rosary. She
glanced over her shoulder. Betty was deep in her algebra. So, taking out
the string of beads, she passed it slowly through her fingers. Then she
held it up, and, looping it around her throat, looked in the mirror.

"I suppose it's mighty childish of me," she said to herself, "but I
can't enjoy my vacation if I go home with a single one of this term's
pearls missing. I've _got_ to make up those lessons, no mattah what the
nurse says. I can rest aftahward."

A few minutes later she presented herself at Miss Gilmer's door with