out and showed
us things, but the head of the establishment was Mrs. Windsor. And we
saw Adele hanging around several times. We also saw Adele's father, very
dressy with a flower in his buttonhole and yellow gloves. He smiled
sweetly at me in the hall. The fitter told us secretly that Mrs.
Windsor spent everything she made on Adele and Mr. Windsor."

"What a shame," cried Judy, "and Adele throws money around like water."

"No wonder she wears such fine clothes. I suppose Annette makes all of
them."

"Thank heavens, we're rid of her forever," exclaimed Molly. "It's not
difficult to find a spot of good in the worst of people. There were
Minerva Higgins and Judith Blount and Frances Andrews. I never did feel
hopeless about them, but this Adele, who doesn't recognize her own
mother--well----"

"Ah, well," broke in Otoyo. "She is what we call in Japan 'evil spirit,'
or 'black spirit.' She will not remain because there are so many good
spirits. She will fly away."

"On a broomstick," put in Edith.

"But Minerva Higgins, there is some greatly big news about her. You have
not heard?"

"No," they cried. Otoyo had become quite a little news body among her
friends.

"She will not finish the course. She will be married in June to learned
gentleman, a professor of languages of death----"

"You mean dead languages," put in Molly, laughing.

"Ah, well, it is the same."

"That is why Minerva looks so gay and blushing," said Jessie. "I saw her
this morning reading a letter on one of the corridor benches. I might
have guessed it was a love letter from her expression of supreme joy."

"I wonder if it was written in Sanskrit."

"I suppose after they marry they will have Latin for breakfast, Greek
for dinner and ancient Hebrew for supper," observed Katherine.

"But the gold medals, what of them?"

"They will be saved for Pallas Athene, and Socrates, and Alcibiades
Plato, of course," said Edith.

"Who are they?"

"Why, the children, goosie," and the party broke up with a laugh.

CHAPTER XX.

THE JUBILEE.

Molly Brown, in a state of wild excitement, rushed into No. 5 one
morning waving a slip of yellow paper in her hand.

"They're coming," she cried ecstatically but vaguely.

"Who?" demanded her two bosom friends from the floor where they were
engaged in fitting a paper pattern to a strip of velvet much too narrow.

"My brother and sister, Minnie and Kent. Isn't it glorious? They get
here to-morrow morni