“I shall never live through it,” said Ida Mason, a Heath Hall girl to her favorite chum, Constance Field. “Nothing can ever be the same again. If my mother knew, Constance, I feel almost sure she would remove me. The whole thing is so small and shabby and horrid, and then to think of Maggie taking part in it! Aren’t you awfully shocked, Constance? What is your true opinion?” “My true opinion,” said Constance, “is this: it is our duty to uphold our own hall and our own chums. As to the best of us, if we are the best, going away because a thing of this sort has occurred, it is not to be thought of for a moment. Why, Ida,” Constance laughed as she spoke, “you might as well expect one of the leading officers to desert his regiment when going into battle. You know what Maggie Oliphant is, Ida. As to deserting her because she has had one of her bad half hours, which she frankly confessed to, like the brave girl she is, I would as soon cut off my right hand. Now, Ida, my dear, don’t be a little goose. Your part, instead of grumbling and growling and hinting at the place not being fit for you, is to go round to every friend you have in Heath Hall and get them to rally round Maggie and Miss Heath.” “There’s that poor Miss Peel, too,” said Ida, “Maggie’s new friend— that queer, plain girl; she’s sure to be frightfully bullied. I suppose I’d better stick up for her as well?” “Of course, dear, you certainly ought. But as to Miss Peel being plain, Ida, I don’t think I quite agree with you. Her face is too clever for that. Have you watched her when she acts?” “No, I don’t think I have. She seems to be very uninteresting.” “Look at her next time, and tell me if you think her uninteresting afterward. Now I’m off to find Maggie. She is sure to be having one of her bad times, poor darling.” Constance Field was a girl whose opinion was always received with respect. Ida went off obediently to fulfil her behests; and Constance, after searching in Maggie’s room and wandering in different parts of the grounds, found the truant at last, comfortably established with a pile of new books and magazines in the library. The library was the most comfortable room in the house, and Maggie was leaning back luxuriously in an easy-chair, reading some notes from a lecture on Aristotle aloud to Prissie, who sat at her feet and took down notes of her own from Maggie’s lips. The two looked up anything but gratefully when Constance approached. Miss Field, however, was not a person to be dismissed with a light and airy word, and Maggie sighed and closed her book when Constance sat down in an armchair, which she pulled close to her. There were no other girls in the library, and Prissie, seeing that Miss Field intended to be confidential, looked at Maggie with a disconsolate air. “Perhaps I had better go up to my own room,” she said timidly. Maggie raised her brows and spoke in an impatient voice.