anting and crimson, but victorious. "Oh, I do hope she--your
chum--won't mind!" she cried. "I am so afraid I shall get them dirty!"
for it was a whim of the Snowy Owl's to wear a white gym suit, and it
was as fresh as if it were just out of the tub, as indeed it was.

"Oh, that is no matter! She washes them every week; she likes to wash;
it's one of her accomplishments. Come along now!"

They ran up-stairs, and found the class just forming in ranks. A gesture
bade them fall into line with the rest, and Peggy stood with her toes on
a chalk mark, waiting the word of command.

It came. "Left foot forward--fall out!" At the command every girl put
out her left foot as far as she could, and flung her whole weight
forward on it. Peggy did the same, and fell on her nose with a
resounding crash. The class giggled, but were sharply checked by the
teacher.

"We will try this once more. Try to balance the body carefully! Take
time! Once more! Left foot forward--fall out!"

Again the line dropped forward with one motion; and again our poor Peggy
fell on her nose. This time the nose protested in its way, and bled;
great crimson drops fell on the white plumage of the Snowy Owl. Almost
crying with distress and mortification, Peggy felt for her handkerchief.
Alas! she was not used to trousers, and no pocket could she find, though
there was one, and her handkerchief was in it. What should she do? She
was just about to make a bolt for the stairs, when a handkerchief was
thrust into her hand. She clapped it to her suffering nose, and looked
gratefully at her left-hand neighbour in the ranks. The girl nodded
slightly, and said, "All serene! better ask leave to retire. Hold arms
over head, stop it!" She was a slender girl, with a pensive face and
melancholy blue eyes. Her hair was plainly parted, Madonna-fashion, and
there was something remote and old-world about her whole look and air.

"Oh, thank you!" murmured poor Peggy. "You're awfully kind!" She hoped
the tiresome bleeding would stop on the instant, but it did not; she was
obliged to ask leave to go down-stairs; and receiving it, dashed down
headlong, and cannoned violently against Vivia Varnham, who had gone
down for something she had forgotten.

"Oh, I beg your pardon!" gasped Peggy. "I'm--awfully clumsy--"

"I think you are!" said the other, with a flash of her hazel eyes.
"Perhaps you'll let me pass now, please, before you make another
exhibition of yourself." She went on,