The next morning such smelts as had been left uncooked for the previous breakfast, came to the table a truly tempting sight, but with the first mouthful a distinct murmur arose and Mrs. Bonnell exclaimed: "Mercy upon me! _What_ has she done this time?" Inquiries followed. "Yas _ma'am_. I done wash 'em _good_ dis time. I wash 'em wid dat sof' soap what Aunt Sally done made befo' she took sick!" And then for more than a week all went serenely. Now dessert was being brought on. Mrs. Bonnell always served it. Wesley came in from the pantry bearing a large platter upon which rested a mold of pudding of the most amazing color mortal eye ever rested upon. It was a vivid beautiful sky-blue and Wesley disclosed every ivory in his ample mouth as he set the dish upon the table. Mrs. Bonnell had ordered corn-starch pudding with chocolate sauce. When she looked upon the viand before her she gave a little cry of dismay. "Wesley what is it?" "De Lawd on'y know, Miss. I sho' don'. Dat Juno done sent it in." "Go at once and ask her what she used in making this pudding. I have never seen its equal." "Ner I," chuckled Wesley as he hurried off. In five minutes he was back, his hand across his mouth and struggling manfully not to disgrace himself. "Well?" queried Mrs. Bonnell, her lips twitching. "She--she--" he strove to articulate. "She--she say she done got de-de-sta-sta-sta'ch in--de la'ndry, an' she--she--taken dat fer ter be ec'nomical an' save 'spence fer de school. It--it--wor lef' over by Aunt Mandy f'om de washin'. She ain' think,--ha--ha,--she ain' think de _bluin'_ in it mak' no diff'ence, he-he-he--. Please, ma'am, scuse me, I can't stan' fo' no mo," and Wesley beat a hasty retreat. Juno Daphne departed that afternoon, Mrs. Bonnell wishing to avoid the services of a coroner. As there was no study period on Friday evenings the girls were at liberty to amuse themselves as they chose. At least, within limitations, though they often miscalculated the limitations. The afternoon had been too dull and cold for much outdoor exercise, so they had spent it in the gymnasium practicing basket-ball. In March they would play a game with a team from a town a few miles from Leslie Manor. Beverly, Sally and Aileen were all on the team, Beverly having made it through adaptability rather than knowledge, for she had never seen a basketball before coming to school, but being as quick as a cat had made good. Consequently the occupants of Suite 10 were glad to rest their weary bodies upon couch or easy chairs when dinner was over, and Sally was entertaining them with an account of her interview with Miss Baylis after luncheon. "She makes me tired. If it had been you, Bev, she would have sent you down to Miss Woodhull's office in jig time. But I've a good one for Uncle Tom," and Sally laughed.