But this time it was Jean and not the paper that was mistaken. In just a few days the School Board announced that its hopes were realized. It had found "suitable quarters" for all the classes. Two grades went into the basement of the Baptist Church. The underground portion of the Methodist edifice accommodated two more. The A. O. U. W. Hall opened its doors to three others. A benevolent private citizen took in the kindergarten. A downtown store hastily transformed itself from an unsuccessful harness shop into nearly as unsuccessful a haven for two other grades. The City Hall gave up its Council Chamber to the Seniors, and the Masons loaned their dining-room to the Juniors, without, however, providing any refreshment. The enterprising Board had telegraphed for desks the very day of the fire; and as soon as that dreadfully prompt furniture arrived, it was remorselessly screwed into place. The Stationer, too, had speedily ordered books. They, too, traveled with unseemly haste from New York to Lakeville. By Thursday, less than a week after the fire, there were desks and seats and books for everybody; and would you believe it, they even kept school on Saturday, that week! And now, an utterly unforeseen thing happened. Hitherto Jean, who was usually the first to be ready, had stopped for Marjory and Bettie. All three had stopped to finish dressing Mabel, who always needed a great deal of assistance, and then all four had walked merrily to school together. But now this happy scheme was entirely ruined, for here was Jean doing algebra under the Baptist roof, Bettie struggling with grammar in the Methodist basement, Marjory climbing two long flights of stairs to the A. O. U. W. Hall and Mabel passing six saloons to reach her desk in the made-over harness shop. "It isn't just what we'd choose," apologized the School Board, "but it won't last forever. We'll build just as soon as we can." Except for the inconvenience of having to go to school separately the children were rather pleased with the novelty of moving into such unusual quarters as the Board had provided; but the mothers were not at all satisfied. "That Baptist cellar is damp and Jean's throat is delicate," complained Mrs. Mapes. "I know she'll be sick half the winter; but of course she'll have to go to school there as long as there's no better place." "That Methodist Church is no place for children," declared Mrs. Tucker. "Its brick walls were condemned seven years ago and it's likely to fall down at any moment, even if they did brace it up with iron bands. But Bettie's too far behind now for me to take her out of school, so I suppose she'll just have to risk having that church tumble in on her."