"Papa will be so disappointed," she went on. "It will be harder on him than on Mama for me not to graduate with the class, and oh, I did love all of you--I really did." Tears, which Molly had never seen Judy shed but once before, now worked two tortuous little paths down her flushed cheeks. Molly and Nance comforted and nursed her into quiet. They bathed her face and loosened her dyed locks which were now beginning to show a strange tawny yellow at the roots and a rusty brownish color at the ends. All the time Molly was thinking very hard. "Judy," she said, at last, when they had got her quiet. "There's no reason why you shouldn't pass the mid-years and graduate with your class if you want to." "But how? I'm so behind now I can hardly catch up, and if I miss six weeks I can never do it." "Yes, you can," said Molly. "This is what you must do. Go down to the village and get board anywhere, with Mrs. Murphy or Mrs. O'Reilly. Take all your books and begin to study. Every day some of us will come down and coach you, Nance or I, or Edith--I know any of the crowd would be glad to, so as not to lose you." "But the Christmas holidays," put in Judy. "I shall be here for all the holidays," said Molly. "It will be all right." And so the matter was settled. The very next day Judy's exile began. She engaged a room at Mrs. O'Reilly's, her obstinate mood slipped away from her and she was happier and more like her old self than she had been in weeks. And Molly was happy, too. She felt that she had saved Judy and freed her at the same time from the clutches of Adele Windsor. CHAPTER XVII. A CHRISTMAS EVE MISUNDERSTANDING. The old Queen's crowd rallied around the exiled Judy, even as Molly had predicted, and Judy was prostrated with gratitude. Nothing could have stirred her so deeply as this devotion of her friends. "I feel like Elijah being fed by the ravens in the wilderness, only you are bringing me crumbs of learning," she exclaimed to Molly who had taken her turn in coaching Judy. "I hope you don't mind being called 'ravens,'" she added apologetically. "Not at all," laughed Molly. "I'd rather be called a raven than a catbird or a poll parrot or an English sparrow." But Judy was already deep in her paper. Being a recluse from the world, her life consecrated to study, she was playing the part to perfection.