t"

"Finish it for us, Ange."

"The memory of Seddon Hall
Will remain in our hearts."

Angela chanted promptly. "Seddon Hall is rather too long for the line
but I guess it will do."

"Of course it will!" Polly assured her, as Betty scribbled hurriedly.
"We'll claim poetic license. I'm sure it's worth it. Let's go find the
girls, and read it to them."

"Where are they?" Angela inquired. "I think the Dorothys have gone to
the village."

"Evelin's in the gym, and Mildred's in the Infirmary," Betty said.
"Where's Lo?"

"In the studio." Polly closed the lid of the piano, preparatory to
leaving.

"Well, we can get her at any rate," Betty said. "Come on."

Fanny was in the studio with Lois, when they got there. Ever since
Polly's promise of friendship, she had been with one or the other of the
three girls. Even Angela had taken an interest in her, now and then.

As the friendship grew, and the girls found that she "filled the want
that the year lacked," as Betty put it drolly:

"Fanny's so nice and such a relief just because she isn't 'us.'" By this
she probably meant that the little Southerner would always see things
differently from the three who, though totally different, thought and
looked at things in pretty much the same way.

"We've finished the song," Polly announced, proudly, as they entered the
studio.

Lois looked up from her drawing board.

"I've nearly finished the poster. How do you like it?"

The girls crowded around her, to admire a crayon sketch of a group of
wakes dressed in costume, singing. There was a house like Ann Hathaway's
cottage in the background, and a big yellow moon just rising behind a
hill.

They were delighted with it.

"Just right, Lo!" Polly insisted. "It ought to be English because all
the ballads we're going to sing are early English--'Good King Wenceslas
Looked Out' and 'God rest ye, Merry Gentlemen,'--and the rest."

"Oh! I adore those old things," Fanny said eagerly. "We always sing them
down home, every year."

"Read the song," Lois demanded. "I'm crazy to hear it."

"Hadn't I better go?" Fanny offered. "I'm not a Senior."

"Oh, never mind," Polly said, "you won't tell."

"Just the same, I'll go. Will you all have tea in my room this
afternoon? I've just gotten a box of cookies from down home," she asked
at the door.

"We will," Betty replied without hesitation. "Tea and homemade cookies
are the one thing I need after my labors."

The others accepte