"Perhaps that is it. I always had a tutor or a governess on the ranch. I hated arithmetic, so we didn't bother much with it. When I entered school in Woodford I just managed to slide through my mathematics. I never got more than a passing grade." Miss North looked at Blue Bonnet as if she were some new species of girl with whom she was unfamiliar. Such honesty was quite without precedent. "And Miss Root? Why do you dislike her?" "Miss Root is too sarcastic. When I make a mistake she calls the attention of the class to it." Miss North looked stern. "You may be excused, now, Miss Ashe," she said. "I will investigate this matter." A day or two later there seemed to be a change of atmosphere in Miss Root's classroom. Miss Root was very nice to Blue Bonnet--even trying to unravel hard knots, and Blue Bonnet gave strict attention. She stopped Blue Bonnet one day at the end of a period. "You see what you can do when you try, Miss Ashe," she said. Blue Bonnet flushed a warm red. "I tried all the time, Miss Root--but--I reckon--maybe we didn't just understand each other." The girl's sweet smile was more appealing than her words. Such spontaneity was infectious. A faint pink crept into the teacher's withered cheek, and for a moment the dull grey of her humdrum existence changed to a startling blue. She held out her hand. "I daresay that was just the trouble. You are very young to have so much philosophy. If you are puzzled again, come to my room. I want you to like mathematics--they are great mental gymnastics. You must learn to get fun out of them." CHAPTER VII IN TROUBLE It was Monday morning--the beginning of Blue Bonnet's fourth week at Miss North's school. Prayers were just over and Blue Bonnet had come up to her room to make her bed. She was drawing up the counterpane when there was a rap at the door and Mary Boyd entered. "Oh, Blue Bonnet," she said, her eyes wide with excitement; "Carita's sick--real sick! Mrs. Goodwin just came to our room and took her to the Infirmary." Blue Bonnet looked at Mary in amazement. "Sick?" she repeated. "Sick? Why, she was all right yesterday." Mary shook her head. "No, she wasn't. She hasn't been well for several days; but she begged me so not to tell anybody that I didn't. I wish now I had. I'm awfully frightened about her. She's had headache for a week. Goodness knows what she's got! That's the way typhoid fever and a lot of things come. You ache all over--" "Mary," Blue Bonnet said sternly, "it was very wrong of you not to tell me. I am responsible for Carita. If anything should happen to her here--" she paused; the thought was too dreadful to contemplate. Blue Bonnet started out the door. Mary caught, and held her tightly. "Where are you going, Blue Bonnet?" "To the Infirmary, of course. Let me go." "No, no, you can't! It's strictly against the rules. Carita's quarantined. They've sent for the doctor." The word quarantined sent a fresh chill to Blue Bonnet's heart.