h, you are such a dear, Mrs. White. And try
to show her how very necessary it is for us all to go. Billy does get
_so_ lonely without me--we're such chums. Father feels dreadfully to
have us separated as we are."

Mrs. White promised to put the matter before Miss North as
diplomatically as possible, and let the girls know her decision at the
earliest possible moment.

"I think afternoon tea is the loveliest thing," Sue said, as they went
back to Blue Bonnet's room for a brief visit. "There's something about
it that makes one feel so grown up--so sort of lady-like! I've always
said that when I keep house--I shall, you know, for father, as soon as I
am through school--that I'll serve tea every afternoon, rain or shine,
at five o'clock, and advertise the fact among all my friends."

"It's very hospitable," Blue Bonnet replied absently. "Do they have tea
every afternoon at Harvard?"

Sue gave a shriek; then she went off into one of her infectious peals of
laughter.

"Blue Bonnet! Oh, that's ripping! At Harvard. What do you take them
for?"

"I don't know that that's such an awful _faux pas_," Blue Bonnet said
with asperity. "They always have afternoon tea at Oxford. Alec Trent has
a friend there and he told him so."

"Well--in England--that's different. It's so awfully English, you know."

"That's why I thought maybe they did it at Harvard. Because it is so
awfully English, you know!"

Blue Bonnet's eyes twinkled mischievously.

A few hours later, as the girls were on their way to the gymnasium to
dance, Mrs. White overtook Sue and stopped her for a moment.

"It is all right, Susan," she said. "Miss North is very glad to have you
accept your brother's invitation for Friday afternoon, and I shall go
with pleasure."

Sue's feet took wings as she caught up with Blue Bonnet and Annabel.

"We can go," she announced breathlessly. "Friday! Harvard! I just knew
we could. Isn't it great? At two-thirty, remember! And girls! Don't
forget--borrow everything you can, and look stunning!"

CHAPTER XV

A HARVARD TEA

Stillness reigned in the study hall: stillness save for the occasional
rattle of a book, or the falling of a pen or pencil from careless
fingers. The large clock at the back of the room ticked regularly, and
its hands pointed to a quarter past one.

At the desk Fraulein Herrmann sat, her watchful eyes roaming over the
assemblage in search of idleness or disorder. Only a moment before her
stentoria