fortnight later, when Cordelia
Wilson overtook her on the way to school one morning.

"Genevieve, Genevieve, please," panted Cordelia. "I want you to do some
missionary work for me! Will you?"

Genevieve turned in surprise.

"'Missionary work!' What _do_ you mean?"

Cordelia laughed and colored.

"Well, it's what you did for Mrs. Granger. Reddy told me. He said you
called it missionary work--and that _'twas_ missionary work, too. You
know they're to start next week, and they're all so happy over it!"

"Yes, I know," nodded Genevieve; "and I'm so glad!"

"So am I," sighed the other, fervently. "You see, Reddy being my find,
so, I felt responsible; and of course I ought to feel that way, too.
Just think--what if they weren't happy over it!"

"But they are," smiled Genevieve. "What's the use of 'if-ing' a thing
when it just _is_ already?"

"What?" Cordelia's eyes were slightly puzzled. "Oh, I see," she laughed.
"What a funny way you do have of putting things, Genevieve Hartley! Why
don't you say such things as that in your notes for the magazine?"

"In the magazine?--mercy! Why, Cordelia, they're _printed_!"

"Well, what of it?" maintained Cordelia.

"What of what?" chirped a new voice; and Tilly Mack hurried up from
behind them.

Cordelia looked plainly disappointed; but Genevieve turned with a light
laugh.

"My magazine notes, Tilly. Cordelia doesn't like them," she explained.

"Oh, but Genevieve, it's only that I want you to write as you talk,"
supplemented Cordelia, in distress.

"Well, I don't know. I'm sure--aren't they true?" bridled Genevieve.

"True!" giggled Tilly, suddenly. "Oh, yes, they're true, just as 'c-a-t
spells cat' is true--and they sound just about like that, too, Genevieve
Hartley, and you know it."

"Humph! I like that," bridled Genevieve, again.

"Oh, Tilly, she writes lovely notes--you know she does," championed
Cordelia, almost tearfully.

"No, I don't write lovely notes," disputed Genevieve, with unexpected
frankness. "They're just like Tilly says they are, and they're horrid. I
_do_ say 'c-a-t spells cat' every time--but I simply can't seem to say
anything else!"

"But why don't you write as you talk?" argued Tilly.

"Or as you do in the Chronicles?" added Cordelia. "You write just
beautifully there."

"But, Cordelia, that isn't _printed_," cried Genevieve, again, as they
came in sight of the school building and saw Elsie Martin coming to meet
them.

At the doorwa