" said Bertha Haughton. "There is no other Miss
Montfort in the school. Look at the address, and you may know the
handwriting!"

Peggy looked. In a clear, bold hand was written:

Miss Peggy Montfort,
At Miss Russell's School,
Pentland.

Glass, with care. All charges paid.

"Oh!" she cried, clasping her hands. "It _is_ for me! It's from Uncle
John! Oh, what do you suppose--what can it be?"

"Bring it in here, please," said Bertha Haughton, quietly, to the man,
who still stood balancing the box. "There! set it against the wall;
thank you! Now," as the man departed, "we need a screw-driver. Have you
one, Viola?"

"My _dear_! I had one, but the Goat broke it, using it for a step, you
know, to get up to the next story. I use a can-opener now, but that will
only do for small boxes. I don't have--well, State Houses, coming every
day," she added, with a good-natured laugh, glancing at the great box.

Bertha Haughton ran to fetch a screw-driver from her room, and the other
two girls moved toward the door. Vivia Varnham looked black. She had
made sure the box was for her, and felt aggrieved at the stupid freshman
who appropriated it. Viola Vincent, on the other hand, was delighted.
"I'm awfully glad!" she said. "It's simply dandy, having a box come. Ta,
ta! I hope it will be something perf'ly splendid, dresses and hats and
all kinds of giddiness. I love giddiness! When you want to be giddy, you
must come to us; the Owls are too worthy. There's Fluffy back again with
the screw-driver. Ta again! Awfully glad!"

Peggy was half inclined to ask Viola to stay, but still it was rather a
relief when the opposite door closed. Whatever the box contained, she
could not have enjoyed it with those sharp, cold eyes of Viola Varnham
looking on.

"Here is the screw-driver!" cried Bertha, out of breath with her flight
along the corridor. "It's very strong, you need not be afraid of
pressing on it. Can I do anything more to help you? If not, I must go. I
hope it is something very nice indeed!"

"Go! you!" cried Peggy. "Oh, must you? Can't you stay and help me see
what it is? It isn't any fun opening boxes alone," she added, piteously.

The girl does not live who would not rather unpack a box than eat her
dinner. "If you are sure you want me," said Bertha. "I didn't want to
be in the way, that was all."

"In the way! Oh, Miss Haughton! Why, you are the onl