All fears of a thaw on the heels of this unprecedented cold wave were put to flight next morning. The thermometer hovered at four degrees above zero and the air was dry and sparkling. Only those who remained indoors and lingered over the registers felt the cold. There was a great deal to be done before evening. Costumes had to be devised, bonfires built along the lake and at intervals on the links, lanterns hung everywhere possible and, lastly, a quick rehearsal. The best skaters were chosen to give exhibitions of fancy skating; there were to be several races and a grand march. Molly learned the night before that a sense of balance having once been acquired is never lost. After supper she had ventured out on the campus with Judy and Nance, who were both excellent skaters. With a grace that was peculiarly her own in spite of the first unsteadiness, Molly had been able to skate to the Quadrangle. There, removing her skating shoes, and putting on slippers, she had skipped upstairs to thank Mary Stewart for her kindness. The return to Queen's over the campus had been even easier, and next morning she felt that she could enter the carnival. Nobody had a chance to talk about costumes until after lunch on Saturday, when there was a meeting of the three friends to decide. "I don't see how I can go. I haven't a thing picturesque," exclaimed Nance dejectedly. "Now, Nance, you have no imagination," said Judy. "One day you tell me I have no sense of humor, and another that I have no imagination. You'll be telling me I have no brains next." "Here, eat this and stop quarreling," interrupted Molly, thrusting a plate of fudge before them. "When in doubt, eat fudge and wisdom will come." Judy ate her fudge in silence. Then suddenly she cried exultantly. "Eureka! Wisdom hath come, yea even to the humble in spirit. Heaven hath enlightened me. I know what we'll wear, girls." "What?" they demanded, having racked their brains in vain to think of something both warm and picturesque. "We'll go," continued Judy impressively, "as three Russian princesses." "What in?" "Leave that to me. You just do as I tell you. Nance, skate down to the village and buy a big roll of cotton batting. Make them wrap it up well, so as not to offer suggestions to others." "What must I do?" asked Molly. "You must turn up the hems of skirts. Take your old last winter's brown one, and Nance's old green one, and--and my velvet one----" "Your best skirt!" exclaimed Nance aghast. "Yes, why not? We only live once," replied the reckless Judy. "Turn up the hems all around and baste them. They should reach just to the shoetops."