Then the delightful news could not be kept a minute longer, but bubbled forth from Leonora's lips, until the three were soon in a torrent of merry talk. David's interest fully satisfied the girls, which is saying much for it; but the clock ticked steadily on, regardless of adoptions, new clothes, and ponies. Happily there was a chance look across the room, which hurried Polly and David away to school and sent Leonora up to the convalescent ward to make ready for her drive with Mrs. Jocelyn. CHAPTER III A WHIFF OF SLANDER Within a few days the little girl, who on the occasion of the ward's anniversary had been afraid to speak to her beautiful benefactor, found herself established in the stately old house on Edgewood Avenue, and calling the same charming lady "mother." On the morning that Mrs. Jocelyn's man drove her across the city to the private school which Polly and David attended, she was almost too joyfully excited for comfort. To think that one of her most cherished dreams was actually coming true! Polly introduced her as, "My friend, Leonora Jocelyn," which made the little dark face pink with pleasure, and nearly caught away the remnant of her self-possession. The girls and boys received her with polite attention or gushing cordiality, and she was beginning to calm into something like sober happiness when Ilga Barron appeared. Ilga was short and plumpy, with pincushion legs, and feet that were trained to dancing. The skirt of her dress was as brief as compatible with fashion, and she swung it with a superior air which abashed the meeker of her schoolmates. She greeted the new pupil with a nod and a stare. "What's your father's business?" was her abrupt inquiry. "I haven't any father," Leonora answered gently. "Oh! Where do you live?" "On Edgewood Avenue." "Up opposite Edgewood Park?" "Yes." "I thought that Mrs. Jocelyn hadn't any children," scowled Ilga. "She has just adopted me," Leonora explained shyly. "Oh!" That was all, accompanied by a little toss of the head. Then Ilga whirled away, calling on her favorite mate to follow. Leonora's face grew distressfully red, and her soft eyes suddenly brimmed. For an instant Polly stood dazed; but quickly she commanded her scattered wits. "There's Lilith Brooks! I want you to know her, she is so sweet! Come, Leonora!" She threw her arm around her friend, and drew her away from the embarrassed group. "You mustn't mind Ilga!" she whispered. "Nobody does!" Yet all that morning the impertinence of Senator Barron's only daughter occupied more of Polly's mind than her lessons, and at recess her indignant thoughts sprang into words. She went straight to where Ilga was entertaining two of her chosen intimates with chocolate creams. "What did you mean by treating Leonora so rudely?" demanded Polly, threatening sparks in her usually gentle eyes. "She is my friend, and I wish to tell you that you mustn't ever act like that to her again!"