was a
"crackerjack" trainer, and for the sake of winning that contest they
were willing to endure her caustic comments meekly.

"I'll never get left and right wheel correctly," sighed Oh-Pshaw with a
discouraged air. "No matter which one she says, I always go in the
opposite direction. I get so fussed when she looks at me that I can't
tell my left foot from my right."

"Never mind, you'll get it in time," said Migwan soothingly. "I had the
same trouble at first, but I'm getting sort of used to her now."

"I'm awfully stupid about things like that," mourned Oh-Pshaw, "and I'm
afraid I'll never get over getting fussed. I never _could_ stand up in
front of anybody and perform; the minute I see people looking at me I
forget everything I know and stand there like a dummy."

"Cheer up, child," said Migwan, "it isn't nearly as bad as you make out.
Just think of the command and forget all about yourself and Miss Raper
and then you'll get it right every time."

"I hope so," said Oh-Pshaw with a sigh.

"You'll _have_ to get over it," said Agony emphatically. "If you make
any mistakes on the night of the contest--!" Agony's voice hinted at the
awful consequences which would follow such a misdemeanor.

"She isn't going to make any mistakes the night of the contest," said
Migwan, putting her arm through Oh-Pshaw's and starting off toward
Carver House.

The rest sauntered after them in twos and threes, practising drill steps
as they went. Sahwah slipped her arm through Veronica's.

"Let's go over into the woods awhile before lunch," she said, "just us
two."

Veronica came willingly and together they struck into the shady wood
path, flecked here and there with irregular patches of sunlight which
filtered through the branches above them. It was a pleasant place, this
strip of woods crowning a gently rolling hill behind the town. Fallen
logs thickly upholstered with moss made delightful sofas especially
designed for friends to sit upon and exchange confidences. Veronica and
Sahwah often came here on their walks.

Veronica was in a merry mood to-day and danced gaily down the path in
pursuit of butterflies; waved her hands and called out gay greetings to
the squirrels and chipmunks, and constantly exclaimed aloud in wonder
and delight at some bit of brilliant orange-colored fungus, or some
bright flower that greeted her eyes.

Sahwah was more quiet, and there was a sober look in her eyes. Her mind
was filled with perplexit