itted for warm wool overshoes. The tunic fell
below the knees and ended above in a pointed hood, and mittens were
made fast to the sleeves.

"Lovely, but isn't it terribly clumsy?" asked Dorothy, more closely
examining one costume.

"Let's show her! Let's have an Indian dance! Hurry up, everybody, and
dress!"

In a jiffy every girl who owned a costume got into it and the place
was transformed. For somebody flew to the piano and struck up a lively
waltz, and away went the girls, catching one another for partner--no
matter who--whirling and circling, twisting bodies about, arms
overhead, as in a regular calisthenic figure--till Dorothy was amazed.
For what looked so thick and clumsy was too soft and yielding to
hinder grace.

In the midst of the mirth, the portieres were lifted and Gwendolyn
came in. It was unfortunate that just then the music ended with a
crash and that the whirling circles paused. For it looked as if her
coming had stopped the fun, though this was far from true.

Ever since that day of her open confession her schoolmates had
regarded her with greater respect than ever before. Most of them
realized how hard that confession had been for so haughty a girl, and
except for her own manner, many would have shown her marked affection.

When she had ceased speaking on that day an awkward silence followed.
If she had expected hand-claps or applause she failed to get either.
The listeners were too surprised to know what to do, and there was
just as much pride in the young "Peer's" bearing as of old. After a
moment of waiting she had stalked away and all chance for applause was
gone.

But she had returned to her regular classes the next morning and mixed
with the girls at recreation more familiarly than she had formerly
done; yet still that stiffness remained.

For half-minute, Gwendolyn hesitated just within the entrance, then
forced herself to advance toward the fireplace and stand there warming
herself.

"It's getting very cold," she remarked by way of breaking the
unpleasant silence.

"Yes, isn't it!" returned Winifred; adding under her breath: "Inside
this room, anyway."

"We're warm enough, dressed up like this," said Marjorie, pleasantly.
"Dorothy says that the Bishop thinks we'll have tobogganing in a day
or two, if the snow holds. She's never seen a toboggan nor how we
dress for the sport, and we brought in our togs to show her. She
thinks they look too clumsy for words, so we've just been