ora had had difficulty in locating him.

There was no news from Carita, either. Mrs. Goodwin was not in her room,
and Blue Bonnet was afraid to venture to the Infirmary.

At four o'clock there was a stir along the hall. The girls were
visiting. Blue Bonnet decided to have a minute's chat with Annabel
Jackson.

Annabel, as usual, had the chafing dish going. She was making cocoa, and
hailed Blue Bonnet's presence with delight.

"Goodness," she said, after a moment, during which Blue Bonnet had not
spoken, "what's the matter? You look like a funeral!"

Blue Bonnet tried to smile, but the effort was a failure.

"Got the blues?"

"No."

"Not homesick?"

Blue Bonnet shook her head, and a tear splashed down on her blouse.

"Why, Blue Bonnet, what is it, dear?" Annabel asked, really surprised.

Blue Bonnet struggled for self control. She sat up very straight, and
made a remark about the cocoa.

"Never mind about the cocoa. What's happened?"

"Nothing--at least--I can't tell you, Annabel."

"Why can't you?"

"Because--I can't!"

Annabel slipped down on the couch beside Blue Bonnet and put an arm over
her shoulder.

"Oh, please," she said. "Come, tell me. Maybe I can help."

It was at that identical moment that Sue Hemphill put her head in the
door.

"Why, Blue Bonnet," she said, "Martha's been hunting everywhere for you.
Miss North wants you in her office right away. There's a man with her--a
dumpy--I beg your pardon--but a short, stout man with a bald head. I
think it's your uncle, or cousin. Anyway, hurry! There's something
doing. Miss North looks like a war cloud without a ghost of a silver
lining. She was just laying it off to your--ah--em--relative. Do hurry.
I'm simply wild to know what's up, and come right back and tell us all
about it. Don't forget!"

She gave Blue Bonnet a gentle push out into the hall and watched her as
she descended the stairs slowly.

CHAPTER VIII

PENANCE

Blue Bonnet went down-stairs slowly; her heart in a tumult of
conflicting emotions. As she passed the reception-room and neared Miss
North's office, she heard Cousin Tracy's voice, gentle and patient,
raised now a trifle in protest.

"I am sure," he was saying, "that Blue Bonnet meant no interference or
harm in sending for me. It was a most natural impulse, which I hope you
will find it possible to pardon."

Cousin Tracy was sitting stiffly on the edge of a chair, his cane and
hat held tightly, as if he i