ow he was to-night," she added.

"I'll go and inquire," cried Judy, leaping to her feet, eager to make
amends for past offenses. She glanced at the clock. "The gate isn't
locked until a quarter past to-night on account of the late train.
There'll be time if I sprint there and back."

"But, Judy," objected Molly.

"Don't interfere, and don't try to come, too. You can't run and I can,"
and before either of the other girls could say a word, Judy was out of
the room and gone.

"I don't know what we are going to do about her, Molly," Nance observed,
as soon as the door had slammed behind that impetuous young woman,
"she's worse than ever."

Molly shook her head silently. Suddenly she felt quite old and
apathetic, like a person who has lost all ambitions and given up the
fight.

"I think I'll turn in, Nance. I'm tired to death."

With silent sympathy, Nance turned down the cover of Molly's little
white bed and laid out her night-gown.

It seemed an incredibly short time when Judy burst into the room again,
too breathless to speak, her face scarlet with running.

"I just did make it," she gasped presently. "The night nurse said
Professor Green was very ill, but that Dr. McLean was hopeful because of
his strong constitution."

"I feel hopeful, too. Thank you, Judy, dearest," said Molly, drawing the
covers up over her shoulders while Nance turned out the light.

CHAPTER II.

A TROUBLED SUNDAY.

It was Sunday morning and Molly had been washing her head. She had
spread a towel on the window-sill and now hung her hair out of the
window that sun and wind might play upon her auburn locks.

"I always heard it was better to dry the hair by the sun than by a fire;
hot air dries up the natural oils," she observed to Nance in a muffled
voice.

Nance was engaged in the meditative occupation of manicuring her nails.
As she rubbed them back and forth on a chamois buffer her thoughts were
busy in far other fields.

"Yes," she replied absently to Molly's observation. "I suppose you
learned that from Judy's new friend," she added, coming back to her
present beautifying occupation. "She'll be introducing rouge to us
next," Nance went on in a disgusted tone.

Molly smiled and gave her hair a vigorous shake in the breeze. In the
bright sunlight it sparkled with glints of gold as if a fairy wand had
touched it.

"No, I didn't, really," she answered. "I read it on the beauty page of a
Sunday paper, but I knew it anyh