the days slipped by with wonderful swiftness after the trunks had been unpacked and things had settled down to the regular routine. patricia wondered at the evenness of their minds and the serenity of their hearts in those first three weeks of studio life.

"everything goes so smoothly," she confided to miss jinny one day at the end of the fortnight. "it sounds monotonous, but i don't mean it that way at all. we're all so naturally polite and agreeable. we don't seem to have to force ourselves a bit."

"that's because we've each of us got something to do," declared miss jinny emphatically. "if we were idling around, musing on ourselves from morning till night like some poor creatures do, we'd get prickly mighty soon. people were made to work, and it's flying in the face of providence to try to get away from it. we all got our share in the curse of adam, and the sooner we realize it, the better for us."

patricia played with the handle of the great glittering brass amphora that stood by the low stool where she sat. her face was puzzled though not disquiet.

"i wonder just what my work will turn out to be?" she said thoughtfully. "i'm beginning to be afraid i haven't any real work of my own. i've tried so hard to get on with the modeling—for i do love it—but it just seems as though i couldn't. that first head that they liked so much, and the study of ju is about all the sculpture i've got in my system, i reckon. i'm downright ashamed to let them know——"

"you needn't be," declared miss jinny vigorously. "you never pretended you were in it for anything but sport, did you? bruce knows you're about through with it; i heard him say so to elinor yesterday."

"oh, did he though?" cried patricia, kindling. "how clever of him to see. i thought no one dreamed!"

miss jinny chuckled. "we knew you were only marking time till you stepped off into your music," she said encouragingly. "it was nice, of course, that you got along so well, but no one expected you to take to it for good and all."

patricia sighed contentedly. "how nice you all are!" she said appreciatively. "i thought you'd all be disgusted with me if i quit. after mr. grantly said that study of ju showed promise, i nearly wore myself to a bone trying to make good. i've been scared stiff about it."

"don't you worry, miss pat. you'll find your own work all in good time. it mayn't be what you'd like it to, but it'll be something that you can do better than any one else," said miss jinny with kind wisdom. "look at me. i'm sure that books and catalogues is my forte, but the lord knows better. he's given me the sense to see it, too, and so mama is comfortable and happy and someone else who hasn't a dear mother depending on her does the library work in my place."

"you're a darling," said patricia, "and the lord must be terribly fond of you."

"patricia louise kendall! that's sacrilege!" gasped the scandalized miss jinny.

"is it?" exclaimed patricia, equally startled. "i didn't know it was. mr. spicer said it himself yesterday when he was talking to me in the print room, and i was telling him about your poor basket and saving bank, and all that. i'm awfully sorry, miss jinny."

miss jinny had a queer look, patricia thought, as she turned hurriedly away with a murmured excuse about the tea table.

"why, it's all ready," cried patricia wondering at her changed manner. "we put the sliced lemon on the very last thing."

but miss jinny was not to be diverted into talk again, and as she started out of the studio the bell came to her aid, buzzing shrilly an insistent summons to the door.

"that's griffin; i know her ring!" cried patricia jumping up. "i'll go."

griffin it was, in the highest good humor and bursting with news. she did not wait to get out of her coat before she began to unbosom herself to them both, alternately addressing each in turn.

"kendall major's missed it, i tell you, going off to that poky architectural show," she declared to miss jinny. "we had the time of our lives today in life class. benton's up in the air because howes showed him that ascension study she did over here—you know he never could bear haydon or his work—and he was as mad as hops that he should be butting in with any of his own special pets like howes."

"how mean!" cried patricia spiritedly. "bruce hasn't even seen that study. what did he say about it?"

"oh, he couldn't say anything right out," replied griffin knowingly, "but he made it hot for us, i tell you. poor old bottle green caught it first, for painting before he'd given her permission, and then he jumped on me for not painting. radford caught it and then he lit on slovinski for using the whistler palette, and she just blew up! these poles aren't like us tame tabbies, you know, and she's full of ginger, for all her sleepy ways. she's terribly high-born, you know, and can't bear anyone to look cross-eyed at her."

"what did she do?" asked patricia eagerly.

"slammed him good and hard," returned griffin succinctly. "told him he was fifteen different sorts of a lobster."

"oh, do talk english, griffie dear," begged patricia, laughing. "miss jinny doesn't understand your choctaw speech."

"well then, she rebuked him thoroughly for his variable though severe criticisms, and stated, with some emotion, that the board should be enlightened as to his unfitness, through his captious temper, for the delicate task of nourishing the tender sensibilities of the budding artist."

"my word, she wasn't shy, was she?" interpolated patricia, much diverted.

"not she," declared griffin. "we were all in a blue fit. not that we old stagers are sorry for the man, but it shocked our sense of what's due him as a teacher. i was fearfully ashamed of slovinski, but it was fun to see how astounded he looked. he just stood looking at her more quietly than i'd ever seen him look at any one, and then he bowed and asked her if she'd quite finished. jiminy, but he was polite! we all got a chill. slovinski sat down, and we took to work again. benton went on criticizing as if nothing had happened, but we felt mighty queer. then bottle green stooped over to get her paint-box, and up she starts, most tragic-like, with her hand, on her shoulder, and she solemnly announces she's broken her arm."

"poor thing, she's done it at last!" cried patricia compassionately. "then what happened?"

"she got safely off, and then the model began to look queer, and in a minute she'd fainted. howes brought her to with a glass of mineral water, and the class broke up. but the model didn't go. after benton had made a small spicy speech of farewell—he's leaving, can't stand being sassed—she got up on the stand and gave us a bunch of monologues that were out of sight. she used to be on the variety stage until she lost her voice. i tell you, kendall missed it."

"what did i miss?" called elinor's voice from the other room, where she had come in unnoticed.

she came to the doorway with her hat and furs still on and repeated the question. griffin gave her a synopsis of the row and the casualties following, which she received with a little protesting laugh.

"i can't say it sounds better than the architectural show," she said, pulling out her hat-pins.

"that part wasn't," agreed griffin, "though a bit more sporting perhaps. but what came after was. mary miller, the model, told us the most wonderful story—her own life, first in the bush in australia and then here in new york and chicago; and who do you think she is?"

"melba in disguise?" mocked elinor gayly.

"stuff!" snorted griffin, impatiently. "her family comes from rockham, and her grandmother used to live at greycroft. she's going out to see the place when it gets warmer. i didn't tell her you lived there now, for i didn't know whether you'd want——"

"lands to goodness, i believe i've seen her!" exclaimed miss jinny. "there was a mary miller, a little thing about five, used to play about the place when old miss spence lived there. her mother married again and went to australia. must be the same one."

"come over to the shop tomorrow and see if it isn't—" griffin began, when there was a sound of laughter and talking in the outer hall and the door opened to admit bruce, margaret howes, the two halden girls and judith.

mr. spicer and mrs. shelly came in almost at the same time, and miss jinny's delicious tea and nut-cakes were served with great gayety and lively chatter. the haldens, having come from a two-days vacation at rockham, were full of neighborhood gossip and gave very circumstantial accounts of greycroft, hannah ann and henry.

"we saw hannah ann and henry on saturday and got all the news about the place from them. major had the colic one night, but hannah ann saved him with a quart of homeopathic pills," laughed miriam. "everything looked just as natural as life when we drove by this morning. they'll be mighty glad to see you all when you go back."

"what are you putting up in the garden, elinor?" asked madalon, stirring her tea. "i noticed that henry had a lot of poles planted along the south shrubbery——"

judith's dismayed exclamation cut short her account of the activities at greycroft.

"now you've done it!" cried judith in distress. "she knows all about it, and i meant it for a surprise! oh dear!"

"i'm awfully sorry—" began madalon, contritely, but judith was too deeply disappointed to be very polite.

"hannah ann and i have been writing about it for ever so long," she lamented, "and we were having it put just where you wanted it, elinor, and henry got the trees from the wood lot, and we were going to have it for a surprise—" she broke off, choking.

elinor slipped an arm about her. "but what is it, ju dear?"

"a pup-pup-pergola," spluttered judith, recovering a bit. "just the sort you wanted. and we planned for miss pat to make one of those lovely stone seats out of concrete. but it isn't any use, now," she ended forlornly.

"don't be a muff," said patricia briskly. "it's twice as good, don't you see, coming out this way? here are eight people surprised all in a bunch, instead of merely elinor and poor me. you've sprung it in the very nick of time, infant."

"sure thing," supplemented griffin genially. "i'm in it now, and if you'd put it off, i'd been in kalamazoo or madagascar, and missed it all."

judith with this encouragement began to take heart, and by the time mr. spicer and margaret howes had joined their congratulations to the others, she was fully recovered and enjoying herself immensely, arguing with margaret howes and bruce as to the shape of the projected seat with a freedom that was usually denied her.

the subject of mary miller was brought up and discussed with great interest. everyone advocated miss jinny's visit to the academy, and judith added the hope that the descendant of the old housekeeper at greycroft might be able to throw some light on the disappearance of the old miser's silver and bank books, a remark that caused some consternation among the elder members of the party.

"don't you go making suggestions of that sort," warned bruce, with impressive authority. "the girl will feel as though her great-grandmother were a thief."

"oh, i wouldn't put it that way," cried judith, scandalized. "i'd just sort of hint around gently. maybe they dug it up long ago."

"ju's got the idea from her last thriller that the dutchman who used to live at greycroft buried his treasure somewhere about the place," explained patricia to griffin. "i suppose she'll spend her time grubbing this summer."

griffin pushed up her blouse sleeve, showing a remarkably thin arm. "i'm your man, if you ever want a pal," she said to judith. "i'm trained down to the right weight now and ready for business."

judith did not know whether she was being chaffed or not, so she dexterously changed the subject.

"doris leighton's sister has the scarlet fever," she announced, enjoying the stir that the name caused, "and doris is nursing her. she takes turns with the nurse, and geraldine cries when she goes out of the room."

"phew, that doesn't sound like our fine lady of the stony heart!" exclaimed griffin. "are you sure, kidlet?"

judith nodded emphatically. "mrs. leighton told miss hillis over the phone, and she told the class, as 'an example of sisterly devotion,' she called it. i felt like telling her what i knew."

"judith kendall, you're a little monster!" cried patricia, indignantly. "even if doris did cheat, she's doing a noble thing now, and we ought to be the last to blab, since elinor got the prize. doris had to pay for her sins and she has human feelings, too."

"pooh, she didn't have to pay much," said judith with the callousness of childhood. "she only gave back the prize and left the academy."

"i'm glad to hear that she is making good now," said margaret howes gravely. "i always felt there was a lot of good in leighton under her fluff."

"perhaps it took hard rubs to bring it out," said miss jinny, pouring another cup for mr. spicer. "we poor human critters are like that sometimes. good times spoil us. maybe she's had it too easy, poor girl."

"souls have muscles, the same as bodies do, and they need exercise," agreed bruce thoughtfully. "i know lots of fellows who are failures through having too much money. it's a dangerous thing to let your soul get seedy."

"golly, that pretty nearly hits us all, doesn't it?" said griffin apprehensively. "i'm not so sure about myself, now you mention it. doris leighton may be one ahead of me in this business. fatty degeneration of the soul is a new one to me."

they were all rather serious for a silent moment, and then patricia spoke. her clear voice was rather low and timid, but her eyes were shining.

"let's phone to her and tell her that we all hope geraldine will soon be well," she said, looking at elinor with loving confidence.

there was a murmur of assent and elinor rose quickly.

"the very thing, miss pat," she agreed radiantly. "i'll look up the number for you."

but patricia shrank from appearing too magnanimous.

"it's your affair, norn," she demurred. "you ought to do the talking."

so elinor went into the sitting-room where the telephone was, and in the intervals of their rather forced conversation, they could hear scraps of her kind questions and gentle answers. when she returned to the studio, her face was glowing.

"i'm so glad you thought of phoning, miss pat," she said, taking her plate and cup from bruce and seating herself by miss jinny. "doris was—well, i can't tell you what she said, but she certainly isn't as bad as we thought her. she's just wrapped up in geraldine and she seems to think that this illness is a judgment on her for the prize study."

"poor thing," exclaimed griffin. "did you tell her we all asked for her?"

elinor nodded. "she said i might as well tell you all, for it would be in the papers tomorrow. her father has failed, and they're dreadfully poor. it's been coming on for a long while, and that was why she wanted the prize so much—not that she excused herself for it, she only said i could see how she came to stoop so low. she was frantic for the money and was so worried that she couldn't think of any subject for herself. she thought i was rich and happy and wouldn't care. she even thought i might not turn in my study at all, when i got sick that night. she's had a terrible time about it, but she was so glad to have the chance to explain."

"why in the world didn't she say so before?" cried griffin indignantly. "she had a chance to defend herself. we're not absolutely inhuman."

"she couldn't, don't you see, without telling her father's private affairs?" said elinor gently. "she didn't feel that it was any excuse for her conduct, anyway."

patricia heaved a deep sigh. "well, i must say," she said with a triumphant look at miss jinny, "i do believe in first impressions and i'm glad i always liked doris leighton."

miriam halden rose regretfully. "sorry to break up the festivities, miss jinny," she said, shaking hands, "but our train leaves in just ten minutes, and madalon has on bran-new pumps with heels that cut her down to a mile an hour. we'll see you all again next week at the house-breaking, as judith calls it."

"we'll be here," promised madalon, following her sister's example. "we'll have to miss lunch and the senior dance, but what's a mere dance compared to helping a neighbor say farewell to their happy little home. look for us at twelve-thirty sharp and prepare an extra mess of pottage, for we'll both be fearfully hungry. tell david and tom hughes we'll come in on the same train they do. good-bye, be good till saturday and then we'll all be happy."