A week later when the newness of the affair had passed away, and when other topics occasionally came up for conversation, some news announced by Miss Green to her classes swept through St. Helen’s like wild-fire. In recognition of years of faithful service, St. Helen’s had presented Miss Green with a fund, with the request that she go to Athens for two years’ study at the Classical School. “Another vocation thrust upon her! Horrors! What will she do?” exclaimed Dorothy, at a meeting held in The Hermitage to discuss this unexpected, and, I am forced to say, welcome piece of information. “Three cheers for St. Helen’s!” cried one Blackmore twin. “And groans for Athens!” cried the other. So just before Christmas, Miss Green departed for Athens; and at the same time, Katrina Van Rensaelar, deciding to seek education elsewhere, left for a place in which her ancestors would be more appreciated. “And to be perfectly frank, daddy dear,” wrote Virginia, “it’s a welcome exodus!” CHAPTER XII THE VIGILANTES The weeks immediately following the Christmas holidays were always hard ones at St. Helen’s. This year was no exception to the experience of every other year. The weather was cold and snowy, the girls were homesick, or, as was too often the case, half ill and listless from too many sweets and too much gayety during the vacation. Lessons were often poorly learned or not learned at all. In short, the St. Helen’s faculty dreaded January, and the St. Helen’s girls hated it. “It’s the worst month in the whole year,” remarked Priscilla, standing by her window one Saturday afternoon, and watching a cold northeast storm whirl the snow-flakes from a gray, forbidding sky. “January’s the out-of-sorts month, and every one in this whole school is out-of-sorts, too. I wish it were Christmas over again!” “So do I,” said Virginia from the other window. Virginia had just caught the out-of-sorts epidemic. For a week at least after her return from Vermont, the memory of her own joyous Christmas had kept her happy. It had been such a lovely two weeks! She and her grandmother had grown to be such good friends. Virginia actually dared believe that her grandmother did not now disapprove of her in the least. She and Aunt Nan had had such a happy, jolly vacation; and even the Rev. Samuel Baxter had been most gracious, not once mentioning Korean missions or the sale of Bibles. But even memories were not proof against a general atmosphere of discontent, and she was beginning to be infected. “There goes Dorothy in all this snow,” announced Priscilla a moment later. “She’s carrying books, too. Where’s she going, I wonder?” She rapped on the window. Dorothy either did not hear or did not choose to. The latter would be more thoroughly in keeping with her January disposition.