Sometimes the bedding was piled in a heap in the middle of the floor, or Lalla’s school hat was filled with water and her best dress missing only to be found later folded under the mattress. The vandals covered their tracks very neatly, and Miss Howard, knowing the excitable temperaments around her, kept the matter as quiet as possible. Gincy thought it over carefully until breakfast time, then decided to do some special detective work for the reputation of the Hall. “Some fracas between their kin, I reckon.” Gincy was used to the mountain feuds, which, like a slumbering fire, always broke out in unexpected places. “Mallie’s been left to run till she’s no ’count; why don’t she study to get some learnin’ stid o’ hatchin’ up deviltry? Nancy Jane and she make a team; looks like they don’t show good sense.” Gincy shook her head sadly, thinking how hard she had worked for the privilege which others esteemed so lightly. School had meant for her sacrifice, and long hours of toil. Saturday was a busy day in the Hall. Its many corridors were thoroughly swept and mopped, the rooms carefully cleaned. Gincy was here and there and everywhere on the third floor. By lunch time there was a sharp twinge in her left ear which sent the blood throbbing to her temples. Her own room was spotless. Urilla’s family photographs were tucked in the wire rack where they would show to the best advantage, the ugly ink spot on the chenille table spread was turned to the wall, and the small stove was shining. But the occupant was not tempted by odours of fresh gingerbread or turnip salad coming from below. Her work for the day was done. She had counted on going to Lee’s Knob with a walking party for a picnic supper. Suddenly, all ambition had left her. When she awoke from her long nap her earache was gone, but there lingered in her memory a curious dream. The room key had been stolen and Miss Howard was in trouble. Another bell rang. This time it was for dinner, but Gincy still felt little inclination to move, and a curious absence of hunger. There were loitering feet, then hurrying, then the distant clatter from the Annex announced that the meal was in progress. Gincy surveyed the tired face in the glass as she brushed her hair and resolutely choked back the homesick hunger which the free life of the mountains had fostered.