per. She looked at it, wondering, and then gave an exclamation
of joy, when she discovered that it covered a big silver loving cup. On
one side was engraved the date and the words: "To Polly, in grateful
recollection of her splendid courage," and on the other, the names of
all the girls, Connie's included, who had been on the ride.

Polly looked at it for a long time, without a word. Then she turned,
appealingly, to Mrs. Baird.

"What can I say?" she asked. "I can't think of anything but 'thank you.'
And that's so little. Though if I could only be sure you knew how much I
meant by it, it would be enough. Do say you know," she pleaded, looking
around the table, "because I'm terribly embarrassed," she ended,
laughing.

"Very good speech, Poll," Betty teased from her seat opposite, "and
quite long enough; my soup's cold."

"Betty!" Mrs. Baird tried to look shocked, and failed, because she
simply had to smile.

Then followed the happiest meal imaginable. At the end a big cake, with
Polly's name on it, was brought in, and then everybody told her all over
again how brave she'd been.

"But I wasn't," she insisted. "It was just a simple thing to do--nothing
that really took courage."

"You may be right," Betty told her, "but you'll never find any one to
agree with you."

Polly smiled. "If I do," she said, "will you promise never to mention it
to me again?"

"Yes," Betty said, promptly; "I will."

"All right."

After dinner she led the way, followed by all fifteen girls, straight to
Maud. They found her in one of the class rooms.

"Tell her just what I did," Polly directed.

And Betty described the ride in her most extravagant style. Finally she
displayed the cup.

"Now, what do you think of it?" she ended triumphantly.

Maud's eyes had been wide with interest throughout the recital. She
looked at Polly with perfect understanding.

"By Jove!" she said earnestly, "wasn't it lucky the hill was there. Did
you remember to rub the horses down when you got back, Polly?"

There was a second's silence.

"Yes, and I put blankets on them," Polly answered. Then, turning to
Betty: "Do I win?" she asked, laughing.

CHAPTER XI

THE CONCERT

"'Flow gently sweet Afton among thy green braes," caroled Betty. She was
picking out the accompaniment with her first finger on the Assembly Hall
piano, one stormy afternoon, for the benefit of Angela and Polly. They
were trying to compose a Senior class song to Seddon