"Come along, girls! I am afraid we are attracting too much attention," said Miss Russell. "Let us set off for the Dripping Well as fast as we can. You must make any purchases you want when we return; I cannot let you wait now." Effie Hargreaves had already dived into the toffee shop, and issued with several paper packages in her hand; so she went on her way rejoicing that she had seized the opportunity while there was yet time. Fortunately for the others, she was of a generous disposition, and ready to share her sweets. "We'll pay you back when we get some of our own," said Marjorie Butler, blissfully sucking a caramel. The Dripping Well was situated in a wood, about a mile from the town, and was, as the guide-book described it, "a most curious natural phenomenon". The water trickled slowly over a large rock, and was so charged with lime that it left a thin deposit over everything it touched. Articles hung up there, after a short time bore the appearance of having been turned to stone. All kinds of objects were suspended from the rock, in the process of being encrusted by the lime--top hats, boots, stockings, gloves, loaves of bread, and even bunches of flowers. "It looks just as if the Gorgon had stared at them and petrified them with a glance," said Nora. "I wonder, if we were hung up, should we turn solid too?" said Lindsay. The caretaker of the well had many specimens to show them which he had polished, and was anxious to sell. There was quite a large collection in his cottage. The girls, after hastily conferring together, bought a stone bouquet as a birthday present for Miss Russell, an offering which she declared should grace the school museum when they returned to Winterburn Lodge. "I thought she'd have put it in the drawing-room," said Beryl Austen, rather disappointed. "Well, of course it is more of a curiosity than an ornament," said Mildred Roper. "It wouldn't have looked very beautiful decorating the mantel-piece, I'm afraid--not nearly so nice as a real bunch of flowers." Close to the well was a cave in the cliff which a hermit had once used for his cell--a very picturesque spot to have chosen for his meditations, so the girls decided. "But horribly damp; the poor man must have been racked with rheumatism," said Miss Frazer, who was of a practical mind. "Perhaps, like Friar Tuck, he didn't often use it, and preferred to hunt venison in the woods," suggested Kathleen Crawford. "No, he was a really devout hermit, who told his beads, and lived on bread and water," said Monica. "He dug his own grave in the rock about a hundred yards from here. You can see it still, though his bones have long ago been taken away for relics." "I wonder if they petrified them first in the well," said Nora Proctor, "and how much they sold them for? There are more than two hundred bones in the human body, so a hermit ought to have been worth a good deal when he was properly divided." "You naughty, irreverent girl!" said Monica.