struments,--a harpsichord and a lute, and an
old violin worth its weight in gold. Some of the most noted violinists
in the world have played on it."

"Oh, I know!" cried Gay, raising herself to a sitting position and
throwing away the core of the apple she had been eating. "That's the
excursion I missed last year when I sprained my ankle. I never was so
disappointed in my life. I'm going right now to ask Miss Chilton to take
me, too. I'm wild to get my fingers on that violin."

Swinging lightly down from the limb to the ground, she twisted around
like a contortionist in a vain attempt to see her back.

"There!" she exclaimed, feeling her belt with a sigh of relief. "For a
wonder there's nothing torn or busted this trip. I must be reforming
Girls, what do you think! I haven't lost a single thing for a whole
week."

"Don't brag," warned Lloyd. "Mom Beck would say you'd bettah scratch on
wood if you don't want yoah luck to change."

Gay shrugged her shoulders at the superstition, but she reached over and
lightly scratched the pencil thrust through Betty's curly hair.

"There goes the first bell for vespers," said Kitty, as they strolled
slowly back toward the Hall, five abreast and arm in arm. With one
accord they began to hum the hymn with which the service always
opened,--"Day is dying in the west."

"It's going to be a fair day to-morrow," prophesied Gay, pausing an
instant on the chapel steps. "There's Miss Chilton. I'll run over and
ask her now."

"It's all right," she whispered several minutes later, when she slipped
into the seat next Lloyd. "I can go. It'll be the greatest kind of a
lark."

As Sybil Green passed through the hall next morning, where the
excursionists were assembling, Gay stopped her and began slowly
revolving on her heels. "Now view me with a critic's eye," she
commanded. "Gaze on me from chapeau to shoe sole, and bear witness that
I am properly girded up for the occasion. See how severely neat and
plain I am. See how beautifully my belts make connection in the back.
Three big, stout safety-pins will surely keep my skirt and shirt-waist
together till nightfall, and there's not a thing about me that I can
possibly lose."

She was still turning around and around. "Not a watch, ring, pin, or
bangle! Not even a pocketbook. Miss Chilton is carrying my car-fare,
and my handkerchief is up my sleeve."

"You might lose your balance or your presence of mind," laughed Sybil.
"You'll have to watc