Promptly at two-thirty, that Fourteenth of February, Miss Brown brought the recitations to a close and laid her little, black record book in the desk drawer, then drew the big, slotted cardboard box toward her and smiled down at the expectant pupils. "I'll ask you to keep as quiet as possible," she requested. "Otherwise, we may disturb some of the grown-up, eighth-grade classes who are too old for these things." No need of any such caution. The children were quiet as the proverbial mice as they waited for the first name to be called. "John Fletcher." He stumbled to his feet in amazement. Had Louise sent him a valentine? As he opened the envelope, a gaudy caricature of a gentleman with reddened nose, paste-diamond pin, and flowered vest met his eyes. Underneath was a bit of doggerel elaborating certain traits ascribed to "The Rounder." He twisted suddenly in his seat and surprised a smile of exultation on Sid's face. Just wait until school was over. He'd fix him for that. "Olga," called Miss Brown with a smile, some moments later. Flaxen-haired Olga simpered up to receive her missive. The excited buzz of conversation which arose claimed John's attention. "That makes eight for her." "But Louise has nine!" Names of several girls who were popular only in the eyes of their youthful swains followed. The teacher shuffled the remaining valentines hastily. "Four more for Olga, and three for Louise." John turned anxiously and encountered a look of placid satisfaction on Olaf's stolid face; that same Olaf who had offered to sell his symptom list for a fifth of the market price. "Louise Martin, two more." "_Six_ for Olga!" John leaned tensely forward. He had sent but an even twenty of the gaudy trinkets, and this sudden influx of rival valentines threatened dangerously to pass that number. More envelopes were passed out. From behind him, he caught the excited whisperings of two girls. "Louise has twenty!" "And Olga, twenty-one!" Miss Brown stooped to turn a broad box right side up on her desk. "The last valentine," she concluded. "Here you are, Louise." Had Sid sent that? He'd smash his face in if he had. The unexpected addition had saved the day for his sweetheart, but that kid had no business butting in, anyway! Miss Brown watched the buzzing groups of pupils. "There's just fifteen minutes left before dismissal," she said considerately. "You may spend it in looking at each other's valentines if you wish." The pupils crowded back to his lady's seat, while he stood on a chair near the wall and craned his neck to see the vision of celluloid and pink and blue ribbon which had come in that last box. She examined the wrappings again, but no identifying mark could be found. As John stepped down, Sid DuPree tried to edge past him, and found his way blocked immediately. Louise looked up at her youthful fiance. "Oh, Johnny, Johnny," she smiled delightedly.