"No, darlint," Mrs. Malony would say, encouragingly. "Oi ain't exactly _seen_ her, but she'll be back prisintly, she'll be back prisintly--Oh, most anny toime, now. Just do be waitin' patient and you'll see me come walkin' in most anny foine day wid yon blackhaired lass at me heels an' full to the eyes of her wid gratichude. Anny day at all, Miss Mabel." Buoyed by this hope, Mabel had waited from day to day, hoping for speedy deliverance. And now, school! "We'll just have to get excused for part of each day," said Marjory, always good at suggesting remedies. "Last year, all my recitations came in the morning; perhaps they will again. Then, if one of you others could do all your reciting during the afternoon we could manage it." The year previously Mabel had been obliged to spend many a half-hour after school, making up neglected lessons. Now, however, she studied furiously. If she failed frequently it was only because she couldn't help making absurd blunders; it was never for lack of study. In this one way, at least, Rosa Marie proved beneficial. The united efforts of all four made it possible for Rosa Marie to possess a more or less unwilling guardian for all but one hour during the forenoon. It grieves one to confess it, but Rosa Marie spent that solitary hour securely strapped to the leg of the dining-room table; but, stolid as ever, she did not mind that. It was there that Aunty Jane discovered her, the second week in October. Aunty Jane had missed her best saucepan. Rightly suspecting that Marjory had carried it off to make fudge in, she hurried to the Cottage, discovered the key under the door-mat, opened the door and walked in. Rosa Marie was grunting. "Eigh, ugh, ugh, ee, ee, _ee_, hee!" to her own bare brown toes. "For mercy's sake! What's that?" gasped Aunty Jane, with a terrified start. "There's some sort of an animal in this house." Arming herself with the broken umbrella that stood in the mended umbrella jar in the front hall, Aunty Jane peered cautiously into the dining-room. The "animal" turned its head to blink with mild, expressionless curiosity at Aunty Jane. "My soul!" ejaculated that good lady, "what are you, anyway?" The pair blinked at each other for several moments. "Are--are you a _baby_?" demanded Aunty Jane. No response from Rosa Marie. "What," asked Aunty Jane, cautiously drawing closer, "is your name?" Still no response. "Who tied you to that table?" Silence on Rosa Marie's part. "I'm going straight after Mrs. Mapes," declared Aunty Jane, retreating backwards in order to keep a watchful eye on the queer object under the table. "I might have known that those enterprising youngsters would be up to _something_, if I gave my whole mind to pickles."