“How romantic!” drawled Rose while the other girls giggled at the idea. Their studies and the race for prizes absorbed the classmates in the days that followed and gradually the mystery, if indeed it was a mystery, faded from their minds. Billie worked hard, and thought she was getting along finely. She commenced to grow a trifle pale, and at this Vi and Laura shook their heads. “Don’t overdo it, Billie,” said Vi. “No kind of prize is worth one’s health,” added Laura. “Don’t worry about me,” declared Billie, with a smile. “I know what you want to do—make me let up so you can pass me.” “Oh, you know better than that!” cried Laura. “Of course she does,” came from Vi. “Now remember, don’t study so hard that you get sick.” “No danger,” retorted Billie airily. It was nearly a week later when Billie suddenly realized that there was another thing they had almost forgotten, and that was Polly Haddon and her unhappy little family. “And poor little Peter!” said Vi penitently, when Billie spoke to her about it. “He must be either better or dead by this time.” “Suppose we go over to-morrow”—the next day being Saturday—Laura suggested. “We can walk to town first. Or maybe we can get Tim Budd to drive us over in the wagon. We can get some good canned stuff, soups and things, and take them over to the Haddons when we go.” The next day the girls sought out Tim Budd, who was the gardener at the Hall and who was also, alas! the father of poor, simple Nick Budd with whom Teddy and Billie had had so queer an experience. After a great deal of coaxing, they succeeded in getting the gardener to take them to town in the carryall. From this it may be seen that Tim acted as chauffeur also upon occasion. They were in hilarious spirits all the way to the town and back again, and it was not until they had almost reached Three Towers that Vi made a suggestion that somehow clouded their faces. “Suppose she won’t accept these things?” she said, giving the well-stocked basket at her feet a little shove. “You said yourself she was awfully proud, Billie.” Billie looked sober for a moment, but Laura, as ever, found something to laugh at. “Why worry about that?” said the incorrigible one, gaily. “If she doesn’t want ’em we’ll have a midnight feast and use them ourselves.” Tim Budd let them out at the Hall and they walked the rest of the way to the little cottage. Mrs. Haddon herself opened the door, but she looked so pale and wan that they hardly recognized her. The woman welcomed the girls absently, as if her mind were a great way off, but when her eyes fell on the basket a resigned little smile played about her lips. “More charity,” she muttered, as though to herself. “Well, I will take it because I must. But I’ll pay it back.” She turned proudly upon the girls and her fine eyes flashed. “No one can say of Polly Haddon that she left her debts unpaid.”