her brother, promptly.
"Father believes all charity should be done through organizations.
'Organized effort' is his hobby," added Walter, ruefully. "He says I lack
proper appreciation of its value."

"But if he told the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children
about Inez, they would take her and put her in some institution,"
objected Nan.

"And put a uniform on her like a prisoner," cried Bess. "And make her
obey rules like--like us boarding school girls. Oh, dear!"

The others laughed at that.

"Oh, you girls!" said Walter. "To hear you talk, one would think you were
hounded like slaves at Lakeview Hall. You should have such a strict
teacher as my tutor, for instance. He's the fellow for driving one. He
says he'll have me ready for college in two years; but if he does, I know
I shall feel as stuffed as a Strasburg goose."

"This learning so much that one will be glad to forget when one grows
up," sighed Bess, "is an awful waste of time."

"Why, Bess!" cried Grace Mason, "don't you ever expect to read or write
or spell or cipher when you grow up?"

"No more than I can help," declared the reckless Elizabeth.

"And yet you've always talked about our going to college together," said
Nan, laughing at her chum.

"But college girls never have to use what they learn--except fudge-making
and dancing, and--and--well, the things that aren't supposed to be in the
curriculum," declared Bess.

"Treason! treason!" said Nan. "How dare you, Elizabeth? Pray what _do_
girls go through college for?"

"To fit themselves for the marriage state," declared Bess. "My mother
went to college and she says that every girl in her graduating class was
married inside of five years--even the homely ones. You see, the homely
ones make such perfectly splendid professors' wives. There's even a
chance for Procrastination Boggs, you see."

"You ridiculous girl!" Nan said. "Come on! Who's going down town with me?
I can find my way around now, for I have studied a map of Chicago and I
can go by the most direct route to Mother Beasley's."

"And find that cunning little Inez, too?" asked Grace.

"Yes. If I want to. But to-day I want to go to see if Sallie and Celia
went back to Mrs. Beasley's. I heard from Sallie's mother by this
morning's post, and the poor woman is dreadfully worked up about the
runaways. Mrs. Morton had a bad dream about Sallie, and the poor woman
believes in dreams."

"She does!" exclaimed Grace. "I suppose she