"Edith," cried Katherine, who had run at full speed all the way from the Quadrangle, "why didn't you bring our clothes?" For an answer her sister pointed at a pile of things on the ground. "I made two trips," she replied. All this the girls heard as in a dream as they stood in a shivering row on the campus. Old brown Queen's was about to be reduced to ashes and cinders! No need to summon the fire brigade or call in the volunteer fire department from the village, although this organization presently came dashing up with a small engine. Flames were already licking their way hungrily along the lower story of the house, and the slight stream of water from the engine hose only seemed to rouse them to greater fury. "I'm only thankful it didn't happen at night," they heard Miss Walker cry as she pushed her way through the throng of girls. "And you, my dear child," she continued, laying a hand on Molly's shoulder, "did you save your things?" Molly started from her lethargy. She was so cold and unhappy, she had forgotten all about her belongings. "Oh, yes, Miss Walker," she answered. "You see, we moved this morning. Wasn't it fortunate?" "We?" repeated Miss Walker. "Yes. My two friends, Miss Oldham and Miss Kean, moved, too. They--well, they wouldn't stay at Queen's without me." "Is it possible?" said the President. "And their trunks had gone down to the village? Dear, dear, what a remarkably providential thing. And what devoted friends you seem to make, Miss Brown," she added, patting Molly's hand and then turning away to speak to Professor Green, who had hurried up. "Is everybody safe?" he asked breathlessly. "Yes, yes, Professor, everybody's safe and everything has been done that could be done. I am afraid some of the girls have lost a good many things, but you will be glad to know that three of them had only this morning sent their trunks to rooms in the village--Miss Brown and her two friends." "Miss Brown moving to the village?" Molly looked up and caught the Professor's glance turned searchingly on her. "I am going to live at O'Reilly's," she said. "And you are safe and your things are safe?" he asked her, frowning so sternly that she felt she must have displeased him somehow. "I'm glad, very glad," he added, turning abruptly away. "Is there nothing I can do, Miss Walker?" For answer she pointed to the volunteers from the village who had leaped away from the house. The crowd swerved back. There was a crackling sound, a crash; a great wave of heat swept across the campus and the front wall of Queen's fell in. They had one fleeting view of the familiar rooms, and then a cloud of ashes and smoke choked the picture. It was not long before only the rear wall of old brown Queen's was left standing. "Dust to dust and ashes to ashes," said Edith Williams, solemnly. It did seem very much like a funeral to the crowd of Queen's girls who stood in a shivering, loyal row to the end.