be ashamed to be seen with you."

"Oh! I'm sorry, Miss Trigg," murmured Nancy.

"Being sorry won't take the mud off that dress--or bring a new pair of
stockings--or clean those boots. We've got to have a cab--a closed cab.
I wouldn't go home with you in anything else."

"I--I'll go home alone, Miss Trigg," said the contrite girl.

"No! While Miss Prentice is away you shall never again be out of my
sight in waking hours--no, Miss! And for a bunch of weeds!"

"Oh Miss Trigg! they are _so-o_ pretty----"

"Don't you say another word!" commanded the teacher. "And you stand
right here until I can signal a cab on the drive below. There, there's
one now!"

The teacher burst through the bushes and waved madly to a taxi rolling
slowly along the macadam below the hill. The driver saw her and stopped.

"Come!" spoke Miss Trigg. "Here! give me those--those _things_."

She snatched the lilies from Nancy's hand and flung them in the path.
The girl looked back at them longingly; but she thought it best to
trifle with the teacher no further.

So she followed slowly the gaunt, angry woman down the steep path, and
only the memory of the boy's gift remained with her through the rest of
the days of that last vacation at Higbee School.

Nancy was in disgrace with Miss Trigg, and was very lonely. She wondered
who the boy was--and where he lived--and who the girls were with
him--and if he had suffered any bad result from his adventure.

Above all, she wondered if she should ever see him again.

But that was not likely. Miss Prentice came home in a week, and in
another week the school would open.

Mr. Gordon had sent the ticket for Nancy's fare to Clintondale. Her
modest trunk was packed. Miss Prentice bade her a perfunctory good-bye.
It was a cold farewell, indeed, to the only home the girl could remember
and in which she had lived for at least three-quarters of her life.

But as the cab which was to take her to the railway station was about to
start, Miss Trigg hurried out. She had scarcely recovered from the
shock of Nancy's adventure at the millpond; but after all there was a
spark of human feeling deep down in the teacher's heart.

"I--I hope you'll do well, Nancy," she stammered. "Do--_do_ keep up well
in your studies and be a credit to us. And for mercy's sake don't
venture into a pond again after nasty weeds. It's not--not ladylike."

Nancy thought she was going to kiss her. But it had been a long time
since Miss Tri