“I better leave the rest for Jimmy and Belle,” he said, “they’re ’ist fightin’ hungry.” Elnora gave him the remainder of the carefully prepared lunch. The boy clutched it and ran with a sidewise hop like a wild thing. She covered the dishes and cup, polished the spoon, replaced it, and closed the case. She caught her breath in a tremulous laugh. “If Aunt Margaret knew that, she’d never forgive me,” she said. “It seems as if secrecy is literally forced upon me, and I hate it. What shall I do for lunch? I’ll have to sell my arrows and keep enough money for a restaurant sandwich.” So she walked hurriedly into town, sold her points at a good price, deposited her funds, and went away with a neat little bank book and the note from the Limberlost carefully folded inside. Elnora passed down the hall that morning, and no one paid the slightest attention to her. The truth was she looked so like every one else that she was perfectly inconspicuous. But in the coat room there were members of her class. Surely no one intended it, but the whisper was too loud. “Look at the girl from the Limberlost in the clothes that woman gave her!” Elnora turned on them. “I beg your pardon,” she said unsteadily, “I couldn’t help hearing that! No one gave me these clothes. I paid for them myself.” Some one muttered, “Pardon me,” but incredulous faces greeted her. Elnora felt driven. “Aunt Margaret selected them, and she meant to give them to me,” she explained, “but I wouldn’t take them. I paid for them myself.” There was silence. “Don’t you believe me?” panted Elnora. “Really, it is none of our affair,” said another girl. “Come on, let’s go.” Elnora stepped before the girl who had spoken. “You have made this your affair,” she said, “because you told a thing which was not true. No one gave me what I am wearing. I paid for my clothes myself with money I earned selling moths to the Bird Woman. I just came from the bank where I deposited what I did not use. Here is my credit.” Elnora drew out and offered the little red book. “Surely you will believe that,” she said. “Why of course,” said the girl who first had spoken. “We met such a lovely woman in Brownlee’s store, and she said she wanted our help to buy some things for a girl, and that’s how we came to know.” “Dear Aunt Margaret,” said Elnora, “it was like her to ask you. Isn’t she splendid?” “She is indeed,” chorused the girls. Elnora set down her lunch box and books, unpinned her hat, hanging it beside the others, and taking up the books she reached to set the box in its place and dropped it. With a little cry she snatched at it and caught the strap on top. That pulled from the fastening, the cover unrolled, the box fell away as far as it could, two porcelain lids rattled on the floor, and the one sandwich rolled like a cartwheel across the room. Elnora lifted a ghastly face. For once no one laughed. She stood an instant staring.