nd making such a noise that her voice was drowned.

It was quite some time before order was restored and Marjorie could again
demand an explanation.

"Now that we are all here, Lucy," she said, "suppose you tell us what you
meant by that speech of yours."

"What speech?" said Lucile, for she had forgotten it in the excitement of
welcoming the new arrivals. "I'll explain anything, but I have to know
what it is first."

"Naturally," Marjorie agreed. "Perhaps you will remember that just before
the girls came you spoke of our changing our tune, or something to that
effect, in regard to Miss Howland."

"Mrs. Wescott, I suppose you mean?" Lucile inquired, blandly, "It seems
to me I did say something like that. What would you like to know?"

"What you meant by it," shouted Marjorie, and Margaret added, "Go ahead,
give it to us, Lucy. I have an idea that's what you called us here for."

"Smart child," approved Jessie, with an approving pat and nod of the
head. "You're coming right along."

Margaret thrilled with a pleasure that was almost pain. "She never would
have dared say that to me before," she cried to herself, exultantly. "She
would have been too afraid of hurting me. Now I know I'm just like all
the rest!"

CHAPTER IV

COUNTING THE HOURS

"You're right, Margaret," Lucile was saying. "I did call you all together
just to speak of our guardian."

The girls leaned forward eagerly. "What about her?" they demanded.

"Oh, Lucy, don't keep us waiting," begged Marjorie. "Is she coming to
Burleigh?"

"Not so fast," cried Lucile. "Give me half a chance. I haven't heard from
our guardian personally, but Phil got a letter from Jim the other day and
he said----" Lucile paused dramatically.

"Yes, yes; go on," they demanded, excitedly.

"And she said that Mr. and Mrs. Wescott were going to visit Burleigh very
soon."

"Soon," cried Margaret. "That sounds good. Always before it's been
something that was going to happen in the dim future."

"Did she say any special time, Lucy?" Ruth broke in, impatiently.

"No, there was nothing definite about it," said Lucile, "but I expect to
hear from her almost any minute now."

"There comes the postman--perhaps he will bring you a letter," suggested
Evelyn.

"Oh, what's the use of raising our hopes?" admonished Jessie. "There's
just about one chance in a thousand that the letter will come when we
want it."

"All we can do is wait," said Lucile, philosophically. "