"Splendid!" Ruth cried, with more enthusiasm than she was wont to show, and got out paper and pencil immediately. "Better get ink, Ruth. Who ever heard of a last will and testament being written in pencil? Here! let me do it." For a minute Annabel scratched away busily, and this is what Ruth read over her shoulder: "TO THE NEXT OCCUPANTS OF THIS ROOM "GREETINGS! "To you, whoever you may be (we hope the best ever), Ruth Biddle of Scranton, Pennsylvania, and Annabel Jackson of Nashville, Tennessee, former occupants, do bequeath our good will, our confidence, our social standing (which is thrown in gratis along with the most expensive room in the school), and do entrust to your everlasting protection such of our possessions as you may find useful and necessary. The black cloths, which you will find in this secret hiding-place, fit the transoms over the door and in the bathroom. The candles you will find convenient for midnight feasts and orgies; the refrigerator indispensable for cold storage; the box couch excellent for provisions, such as Nabiscos, crackers and cookies. To you also we do bequeath the residue of our estate: the wicker tea-table; the picture of the Queen Louise; the china cat on the mantel-piece, which has proved an invaluable mascot. This together with our best wishes, congratulations, and the hope that you will continue to dispense hospitality and radiate good cheer and comfort from these portals. "Signed: "Witnessed by:" "You don't mean to say you're going to give your tea-table to utter strangers, do you, Annabel?" Ruth asked in surprise. "I don't mean to pay storage or freight on it. Certainly I'm going to leave it." "And the Queen Louise? I thought you adored her!" "I did once, but she makes me so nervous, eternally coming down those stairs, gazing off into the distance as if she were treading on air. I'm getting terribly tired of her." "And the cat? You remember the day you bought that, Annabel? You were about the most homesick person in Boston. You said it looked like your own 'Lady Jane Grey' at home, and you cuddled it half the night. I don't see how you can part with it." "Oh, it goes with the room," Annabel answered indifferently. "You know yourself it's kept away mice. We've never had _one_, and look at Wee Watts' room, and the sky parlor--" A knock interrupted further history. Blue Bonnet put her head inside. "Girls!" she said excitedly, "we're going to get our three days' cut, and oh, guess what's happened! Patty Paine's mother's here--we just left her down in the reception-room, and she's invited us all--the Lambs--down to her summer home in Maine at a place called Sargentville. They have a cottage there, and she's going down and will take us, and Miss North says we can go." Annabel pulled Blue Bonnet into the room and looked at her skeptically.