The girls usually did needlework after supper, but this evening the sitting-room was to be devoted to the sale. Mollie and Phyllis were wise in their generation, and, anticipating a stampede, they picked out Gertrude Holmes and Laura Norris as being the most stalwart and brawny-armed among the damsels of St. Elgiva's, and set them to keep the door, admitting only two at a time. Even with this precaution a rather wild scene ensued. Instead of keeping in an orderly queue, the girls pushed for places, and there were several excited struggles in the vicinity of the stairs. As each girl came out, proudly exhibiting what she had purchased, the anxiety of those who had not yet entered the sitting-room increased. They were afraid everything might be sold before it came to their turns, and had it not been for the well-developed muscles of Gertrude and Laura, the fort might have been stormed and the stores raided. Mollie and Phyllis had invested their capital with skill, and showed an assortment of white and coloured crinkled papers, cheap remnants of sateen, lengths of gay butter muslin, and yards of ribbon. For the occasion they assumed the manners of shop assistants, and greeted their visitors with the orthodox: "What can I show you, madam?" But their elaborate politeness soon melted away when the customer showed signs of demanding more than her portion, and the "Oh, certainly!" or "Here's a sweet thing, madam!" uttered in honeyed tones, turned to a blunt "Don't be greedy!" "Can't give you more than your shilling's worth, not if you ask ever so." "There won't be enough to go round, so you must just make what you've got do. Not a single inch more! If you don't go this minute we'll take your parcels back. We're in a hurry." By using the greatest dispatch Mollie and Phyllis just managed to distribute their goods before the bell rang for prayers. The ribbon and sateen were all bought up, and the crinkled paper which was left over they put aside to make decorations for the hall. Next day St. Elgiva's was given up to the fabrication of costumes. The girls retired to their dormitories, strewed their beds with materials, and worked feverishly. In No. 9 the excitement was intense. Sylvia, who intended to represent the United States, was seccotining stars and stripes, cut out of coloured paper, on to her best white petticoat. Betty was stitching red stripes down the sides of her gymnasium knickers, being determined to appear in the nearest approach to a Zouave uniform that she could muster, though a little doubtful of Miss Norton's approval of male attire. Chrissie, with a brown-paper hat, a red tie, and belt strapped over her shoulder, meant to figure as Young Australia. Marjorie alone, the most enthusiastic of all for the scheme, sat limply on her bed with idle scissors. "I'd meant to be Rumania," she confessed, "and I find Patricia's bagged the exact thing I sketched." "Can't there be several Rumanias?"