“Yes,” he said; “I’m at the Hall. You remember little Miss Rowantree? Her father and mother have consented to let me use one of their rooms. They have a great many, you know.” “Ravenel Hall?” asked Carin. “Is that the same as Ravenel Hall? We have just been hearing something of the Ravenels.” “It’s called Rowantree Hall now,” smiled Keefe. “You see, Rowantree himself lives there. He’s lord of the manor.” “Is he so magnificent?” asked Carin, her eyes widening. “I thought no one lived about here except the mountain folk. Mr. Summers never told me anything about Mr. Rowantree.” “Then,” said Keefe O’Connor, “Mr. Summers, whoever he may be, couldn’t have known very much about the country. To be sure, I haven’t been here long myself, but from what I’ve seen I should say that Mr. Rowantree was a very important character.” “Oh, tell us—” began Carin. But just then Miss Zillah entered. “My dears,” she said, “Mrs. McEvoy has kindly started the fire. Let us wash the dust off the dishes without delay. Mrs. McEvoy offers to provide us with vegetables, and our supplies will soon be here, so presently we shall have dinner.” Keefe came forward from the shadow of the huge chimney. “May I help with the dishes, please?” he asked. If he saw in Miss Zillah’s eyes a gleam of annoyance that she should have a third person foisted upon her care he paid no attention to it. She was too hospitable, moreover, to refuse. “Yes,” she said, “if you do it well. Then, having paid for your dinner beforehand, you shall eat it with us.” Azalea, who was already in the kitchen, heard the answer—and dropped the dipper. CHAPTER IV “SAY! TEACHER!” The schoolhouse was ready. The books and tablets, pencils and stereopticon pictures ordered by Mr. Carson, all had come. The little house of the schoolteachers was ready, too. All that was wanting was the pupils. But there was little doubt about them—they would soon be coming, for posted at corners of the main traveled roads, nailed on trees and tacked on station and post office walls were placards bearing the information that the Ravenel School was open and that all who wished to study would be welcomed. To make plain the nature of the invitation even to those who could not read, Carin painted on each placard a picture of the schoolhouse, and put beyond it a beckoning hand, which, as she explained, was her idea of sign writing. “Why, even the groundhogs and chipmunks ought to be able to understand that,” said Azalea. Then the services of the carrier of the rural mail and of the doctor and the preacher were asked. Miles McEvoy made it his business to send on the good word by everyone he saw going mountainward. The grocer promised to let no mountaineer leave his place without telling him of the news and asking the person to whom he told it, to spread it far and wide. So it came to pass that Azalea, sitting on the doorstep one morning after her early breakfast, saw three heads appearing above the slope.