hers on a corner of the table. She was still full of that tensity and suppressed excitement which the busy day and many interests, with the companionship of other girls, had giver her. “All that and more inside my brain this year, girls. And, O, my violin teacher is so funny. He looks as if he were just caught. He is imported, I guess.” “Why, Lilian, this from you?” said Hilary. “Never mind, he thinks I’m just as funny. He has a real mop of black hair, and closes his eyes and sways when he plays himself,—and glares fiercely when your bow scrapes or you get ever so little off the tone. He tried me out this morning. I played scales for him. I know how to torture him if he gets too cross,—just miss getting it right. Really, though, I’m just dying to go in for nothing but music, but Father won’t hear to it. I want voice and piano, violin, harmony, counterpoint, everything. They are going to let me take one stingy little lesson a week in voice and one in violin.” “Mercy, child, how could you do more with your other work?” “I suppose it is a sensible thing, but you know I’m a little ahead on the regular course, and wouldn’t have the full number of hours.” “Where do you practice your violin?” asked Helen soberly, but as Lilian flashed her an understanding smile she laughed, and the other girls leaned forward in pretended anxiety. “Over in the ‘annex,’ Dixie; don’t worry, no squeaks and squawks around here.” “Have you seen Dr. Norris?” asked Cathalina. “Who is he?” asked Lilian and Betty together. “He is Patty’s lover! But keep it a dead secret. I don’t believe the faculty knows it. Perhaps they wouldn’t have let him come.” “Maybe they do know it. How did you find it out?” “By looking at them.” “Everybody else will know it that way, then.” “No, I don’t mean that they acted like lovers, but I could see that they are well acquainted, and I remember several things that happened last year. Don’t you remember, Betty, that time when we were with her and she had a letter ‘from a dear friend,’ she said,
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