r cheeks flaming.

Miss North explained.

"You have the idea, Miss Ashe. It amuses the class to think of students
singing as they bury their teacher, though I daresay there might be more
truth than poetry in it."

There was no sarcasm in her tones. She laughed with the rest. Blue
Bonnet's attention had delighted her.

There had been another pleasure during the week, one that Blue Bonnet
greatly appreciated. She was allowed ten minutes with Carita in the
Infirmary.

Carita was sitting up--her long hair brushed and braided smartly; her
face--still a bit white--wreathed in smiles.

Blue Bonnet hovered over her.

"Have you been awfully lonely, Carita?"

"No--not a bit."

"Really?"

"No, truly I haven't. Mrs. Goodwin is such a dear, Blue Bonnet. She
makes me think of my mother. She read to me--and cooked things for me,
herself: the best milk toast, with cream on it; and to-day I had
ice-cream--"

"You did? Well, that's more than we had. This was heavenly hash day!"

"I've had visitors, too; Miss North--she brought me those flowers over
there--"

Blue Bonnet turned to look at two pink roses on a table by the bed.

"--and Fraulein--"

"Fraulein!"

"Yes--and she was real nice--as nice as _she_ could be, you know. Mary
sent me this by Mrs. Goodwin--look!"

Carita brought from beneath her pillow a large, handsome scrap book.

"Oh, a scrap book!"

"A memory book," Carita corrected. "You put everything in it, you know;
things to remind you of the school after you have graduated or gone
away. I hope I'll get it awfully full. Oh, Blue Bonnet, I know I'm
going to be so happy here--in the school. Everybody has been so good to
me."

A little mantle of shame spread over Blue Bonnet's face and dyed it a
glowing red.

"And I'm doing penance for trying to thrust attention on Carita which
she didn't need," she thought.

But the penance--indeed, the mistake itself--had brought its reward:
Blue Bonnet had learned her first lesson in faith.

Friday came, and Blue Bonnet watched the girls as they started for the
Symphony concert. How pretty they looked!

Annabel had peeked in Blue Bonnet's room at the last minute, ostensibly
to say good-by, but purposely to borrow the white fox muff and a pair of
gloves. Annabel was an inveterate borrower; not from any lack of
clothes, but because she loved dress extravagantly.

"So sorry you can't go, dear," she said. "It's just awfully too bad!
There's to be a wonderful sing