Katherine at once became the center of an admiring and condoling group, whose attitude towards her had undergone a radical change since the brave championship of Miss Felton, who was a power not only in her own class but in the whole school. Katherine greeted everyone graciously, but met all expressions of sympathy and indignation with laughing protests, and as soon as she could do so without appearing unappreciative, excused herself, upon the plea that she must look over a lesson before the retiring bell rang, and slipped away to her room. It is not to be wondered at that a few bitter tears forced themselves over her hot cheeks when she found herself alone, for she had been sorely tried. The struggle with her momentary feeling of indignation and a sense of personal injury had been severe, while she had also been deeply hurt by Sadie's evident sympathy with those who were in the plot against her. But she resolutely set herself at work to conquer these emotions and then vigorously attacked the unlearned lesson, after which she retired, but not to sleep, for thought was busy with what had occurred and with plans for the next league meeting. Sadie did not put in an appearance until some time after the gas had been turned off, when she silently undressed and crept into bed, and, shortly after, Katherine fell asleep. Some hours later she was suddenly awakened by what sounded like a moan of pain. She sat up in bed and listened; but, hearing nothing more, thought she must have been mistaken, and was about to lie down again, when, from beneath the covers of the bed, in the opposite corner of the room, she was sure she heard her roommate groan. "Sadie! what is the matter?" she inquired. There was no verbal answer, but another moan smote upon her ears. Katherine sprang out of bed and went to her. "Sadie, tell me, what is the trouble?" she said, laying a gentle hand upon her shoulder. "Oh, I have a horrible toothache," she girl replied, adding: "I did not mean to wake you, but the pain is simply unbearable," and, throwing back the covers, she sat up and rocked to and fro in agony. "What can I do for you?" Katherine kindly inquired, while she mentally declared that "God never made pain, nor man to suffer pain." "Oh, I don't know," was the helpless rejoinder. "I think there is a bottle of oil of cloves somewhere in my upper drawer, if you will find it for me." Katherine lighted the candle, kept for emergencies, and searched for the desired remedy amid the heterogeneous collection in the drawer, but failed to find it. Then she looked in various other places suggested by Sadie, with the same result, greatly to the girl's disappointment. "Oh, I remember--I lent it to Carrie Hill last week! What shall I do?" wailed the sufferer in a voice of despair; for Miss Hill roomed at the top of the opposite wing, and just at that moment the clock in the tower of the building struck the hour of three.