nd made no sign.

Peggy was enjoying herself immensely. She was not a swift climber, but
there was no tiring her, and this, as she said to herself, was "great!"
She wished Margaret could see her! No! It would frighten dear Margaret.
Rita, then! Rita loved feats of skill; probably she could climb far
better than she, Peggy, could; Rita was so light, so graceful, so
fearless.

A shout rang from below. Something passed her on the next rope, light
and swift as a bird in flight. She could almost touch the ceiling now;
she looked up; there, at the very top of the next rope, was her friend
of the dressing-room, gazing at her with melancholy blue eyes, and
holding out a slender hand.

"Shake!" said the girl with the Madonna braids.

CHAPTER IV.

ENTER THE SCAPEGOAT.

Peggy was sitting alone in her room that evening, studying, when there
rose a hubbub outside her window; wheels, and the trampling of horses,
and girls' voices. She ran to the window and looked out; there was a
great hay-rigging, drawn by four stout horses, and comfortably lined
with straw. Girls were climbing into it on every side, and more and more
came pouring out of the house. It was full moon, and their faces shone
so clear and merry in the light, that Peggy could not help feeling a
pang, not of envy, but of longing. Of course there had been no question
of her going; it was a junior affair; but they all looked so happy and
jolly, and it was so lonely here! As she stood longing, Viola Vincent
popped her pretty head in to say good-bye.

"Thought you might like to see my toque!" she said, fluttering in the
doorway. "It's the first time I have had it on. Isn't it dandy? Isn't it
perfectly sweet?"

Peggy thought it charming, and said so; she was rapidly losing her heart
to her pretty butterfly neighbour.

"I thought you'd like to see it!" said Viola, naively. "It makes it
easier to study, if you see something pretty. Ta, dear! I wish you were
going. We shall have a dandy time, simply dandy!"

She fluttered out, and left the door ajar behind her, so that Peggy
could not help hearing the half-whispered colloquy that ensued in the
corridor.

"Went to say good-bye to the Veezy Vee. Why shouldn't I?"

"Why should you? You'll have her around your neck if you don't take
care, like a lump, as she is."

"Hush, V.! you're quite vinegar, aren't you? Why? She's perfectly
harmless, and I find her quaint. You know I adore quaintness!"

"Oh, come along,