"Don't say another word," put in Judy as if she were scolding a bad child. "Nance and I would rather live at O'Reilly's with you than at Queen's without you, that's all. We mean no reflection on the others, but I suppose you all understand. Edith and Katherine wouldn't be separated, and Jessie and Margaret wouldn't. Well, it's the same with us." "You'll be sorry," cried Molly. "Oh, Judy, I know you'll regret it the very first day. It will be very different from Queen's. We'll have to get our own breakfasts, and take meals at the place next door, and the rooms are plain with ugly wall paper, and there isn't any white woodwork, and it's a big empty old place. It used to be a small hotel, you know, and Mrs. O'Reilly is trying to sell it. The only recommendation it has, is that it's very cheap." "Why didn't you go over to the post-office, Molly?" asked Margaret. "They are nicer rooms," admitted Molly, "but----" "Judith Blount is going there," put in Judy. "That wasn't the only reason. I really had arranged about O'Reilly's before I knew Judith Blount was going to leave here." The girls looked puzzled. "I know," said Edith. "There's a young person with a soft cooing voice at the post-office who talks a mile a minute." "She's a very nice girl," broke in Molly, "and works so hard. I really like her ever so much. She's very clever, but I have a sort of bewildered feeling when I am with her." "I know," said Edith. "It's like standing on the banks of a rushing river. There's no way to stop it and there's no way to get across. You might as well retreat to O'Reilly's in good order." "O'Reilly's it is," cried Judy with the gallant air of one about to go forth in search of adventure. It was in vain that Molly protested. Her friends had made up their minds and nothing could swerve them. By good luck, the checks in payment for board and lodging at Queen's for the new quarter had not arrived, and the two girls were free to move if they chose. Together the three friends, more closely united than ever by the sacrifice of two of them, walked down into the village that afternoon to have a look at O'Reilly's, and they were obliged to confess that they were not impressed with its possibilities as a home. But it was a dark, cold day--when even cheerful, pretty rooms would not have looked their best. "These two back rooms will be rather nice when the spring comes," observed Nance, with a forced gaiety. "They look over the garden, you see. Perhaps Mrs. O'Reilly will let us plant some seeds in March." "It won't be nice," Molly cried. "It will be miserable. I've known it all along myself, but I wouldn't admit it until now. Girls, I implore you to stay at Queen's. You never will be happy here, and I shall be twice as unhappy." "Now, don't say another word, Molly Brown," said Judy. "We're going to follow you if it's to the Inferno." "Think how you'll miss the others." "Think how we'd miss you."