ke me up. Now I must get up and dress. Maybe you will show me to
the bathroom, though I don't like to go about in this way."

"That's a school nightie you've got on. Where's your bath robe?"

"In my trunk."

"Where's your trunk?"

"I suppose it's at John Gilpin's house. That is, if he didn't throw it
out of the cart with the empty barrels."

"Why did he throw out the barrels?"

"To make a place for Robin to lie on."

"What Robin?"

"The messenger boy who was hurt. He was bringing my telegram and he
fainted and fell and the motor car--but I mustn't stop now to talk. I
must get dressed."

"Couldn't you talk without stopping? I could."

"I believe you, child. Will you show me?"

"Of course--if you'll tell the rest. Wait. If you want a robe I'll get
Gwendolyn's. It's right yonder."

So it happened that the first act of the supposed charity pupil was to
borrow a garment of the very girl who had so misjudged her, and who
entered the dormitory just as Dorothy was leaving it for the lavatory.

Curiosity had sent Gwendolyn and Laura Griswold, her chum and
"shadow," back to this apartment at this unusual hour, but at sight of
Dorothy disappearing toward the bath wearing Gwendolyn's robe, its
owner forgot her curiosity in indignation. Stopping short, midway the
great room, she clasped her hands in a tragic manner and demanded of
Laura:

"Did you ever in your life see anything so cool as that? The impudent
girl! How dare she? I wonder what else she's taken! And that
mischievous little Pill with her. That child's the nuisance of this
school. Even if she is Lady Principal's niece, she shouldn't be given
the liberty she has. But I'll report."

"Yes, indeed, I'd report!" echoed Laura. "First, have to sleep in the
school things; then help herself to yours. It's simply outrageous. Why
not go right away? It's recess and Miss Tross-Kingdon has no class."

"She has worse. The Bishop's in the reception-room, and Dr. Winston,
too. They were all talking very fast and I wanted to stop and listen.
But I didn't quite dare, for she was facing the door and might see me.
But I did hear the Bishop say that if she was a Calvert she could
hardly fail to be all right. She came of good stock--none better. I
wondered who he meant; but Lady Principal saw me looking in and asked
me if 'I wished anything?' Hateful woman! She has the most
disagreeable manners!"

"Never mind. Anyway, let's go tell her!" advised Laura, and the pair
depart