"When Ellen told Miss Sarah the next day that he'd asked for me, she was terribly mortified, and she made me write and explain, and invite him to dinner; but wild horses couldn't have dragged him into the house again. He's been afraid to stop off in Washington ever since. He always goes straight through on a sleeper, and says he has nightmares even then." "And is that why he won't come to the college?" "Yes," said Patty; "that's the reason. I told him we didn't have any butlers here; but he said we had lady faculty, and that's as bad." "But I thought you said he _was_ coming to the Prom." "He is this time." "Are you sure?" "Yes," said Patty, with ominous emphasis, "I'm sure. He knows," she added, "what will happen if he doesn't." "What will happen?" asked the Twin. "Nothing." The Twin shook her head, and Georgie inquired, "Then why don't you make out his program?" "I suppose I might as well. I didn't do it before because it sort of seemed like tempting Providence. I didn't want to be the cause of any really _serious_ accident happening to him," she explained a trifle ambiguously as she got out pencil and paper. "What dances can you give me, Lucille? And you, Georgie, have you got the third taken?" While this business was being settled, a knock unheeded had sounded on the door. It came again. "What's that?" asked Priscilla. "Did some one knock? Come in." The door opened, and a maid stood upon the threshold with a yellow envelop in her hand. She peered uncertainly around the darkened room from one face to another. "Miss Patty Wyatt?" she asked. Patty stretched out her hand in silence for the envelop, and, propping it up on her desk, looked at it with a grim smile. "What is it, Patty? Aren't you going to read it?" "There's no need. I know what it says." "Then I'll read it," said Priscilla, ripping it open. "Is it a leg or an arm?" Patty inquired with mild curiosity. "Neither," said Priscilla; "it's a collar-bone." "Oh," murmured Patty. "What is it?" demanded Georgie the curious. "Read it out loud." "NEW HAVEN, November 29. "Broke collar-bone playing foot-ball. Honest Injun. Terribly sorry. Better luck next time." "RAOUL." "There will not," observed Patty, "_be_ a next time." III The Impressionable Mr. Todhunter "Has the mail been around yet?" called Priscilla to a girl at the other end of the corridor. "Don't believe so. It hasn't been in our room." "There she comes now!" and Priscilla swooped down upon the mail-girl. "Got anything for 399?" "Do you want Miss Wyatt's mail too?" "Yes; I'll take everything. What a lot! Is that all for us?" And Priscilla walked down the corridor swinging her note-book by its shoe-string, and opening envelops as she went. She was presently joined by Georgie Merriles, likewise swinging a note-book by a shoe-string. "Hello, Pris; going to English? Want me to help carry your mail?"