History of Cu

ool life was over, and they stepped out, fresh and eager and spontaneous, to greet the grown-up world. Saint U

participate in paper chases 'cross country; to skate and coast and play hockey on winter afternoons, to enjoy molasses-candy pulls and popcorn around the big open fire on Saturday nights, or impromptu masquerades, when th

ularly when Rosalie Patton was of the group. Pretty, dainty, inconsequential little Rosalie was pre?minently fashioned for romance; it clung to her golden hair and looked from her eyes. She might be extremely hazy as to the difference between participles and su

they confided them to their most intimate friends, until

der in dramatics, Keren Hersey in geometry and Patty Wyatt in-well, in impudence and audacity-but Rosalie was the recogniz

arrived, she found to her disgust that clothes were not useful at St. Ursula's. The school uniform reduced all to a dead level in the matter of fashion. There was another f

window. They had been singing softly in a minor key, but gradually the singing turned to talk. The talk, in accordance with the moonlight and flying clouds, was in a sentimental vein; and it

es and rustling pine trees. When Rosalie chanced to omit any detail

ll the time he was talki

?" in a shocked chor

ld of it and forgot to let go,

did he

couldn't liv

at did

wfully sorry, b

n what h

ss. "I s'pose something might have happened

me," suggested Evalina Smith. "Are

ith an air of me

had an awfully funny nose. It started to point in one dire

ed this detail; but Rosalie was literal-minded and

he added pensively. "I told him that I could never love hi

what did

wouldn't com

leaming hair and violet eyes, she was entirely their ideal of a storybook heroine. They did not think

was the first to break the spell. She rose, fluffed up her

goose to make such a fuss over nothing.-Go

on the threshold to drop the casual stat

lèse-majesté. The disdainful condescension

word she says!" Priscilla declared stoutly, as

s followers that the quality of the romance was quite different in the two cases. Mae might be the heroine of any number of commonplace flirtations, but Rosalie was the victim of a grande passion. She was marked

ight to hear her sobbing to herself. She had no appetite-her whole table could testify to that. In the middle of dessert, even on ice-cream nights, she would forget to eat, and with her spoon half-raised, would sit staring into sp

, and grandmothers and college brothers and baby sisters. They were learning the great secret of literary forcefulness-to suit their style to their audience. Ultimately, they arrived at the point of thank

n any case, her father was a staunch American; he hated the English and he hated titles. No daughter of his should ever marry a foreigner. If she did, she would never receive a dollar from him. However, neither Mae nor Cuthbert cared about the money. Cuthbert had plenty of his own. His name was Cuthbert St. John. (Pronounced Sinjun.) He

this romance, Rosalie's poor l

d given his word to her father not to write; but she knew that in some way she should hear. And sure enough! The following mornin

d face and far-off smile. Patty Wyatt pointed out that Mae had taken special pains to seat herself in the light of a stained-glass window, and that occasionally the rapt e

the r?le of leading lady. Poor insipi

he talks, illustrated by the stereopticon. As a stately, terraced mansion, with deer cropping grass in the foreground, was thrown upon the screen, Mae Mertelle suddenly grew fa

l, a near-by school for girls, was imminent. St. Ursula's had been beaten the year before; it would mean everlasting disgrace i

ts!" she disgustedly grumbled to Patty.

the trouble was evident. The school had been swept before by a wave of sentiment; it was as catching as the measles. The Dowager was inclined to think that the simplest method of clearing the atmosphere would be to pack Mae Mertelle and her four trunks back to the paternal fireside, and let her foolish mother deal with the case. Miss Lord was characteristically bent upon fighting it out. She would stop the nonsense

d acres of the school farm. Between the details of horseshoeing and haying and butter-making, she lent her abilities wherever they were needed. She never taught; but she disciplined. T

rs after luncheon drawing on her driving gloves, she just escaped stepping on Conny Wilder and Pat

to the farm? Run and tell Miss Wadsworth that you are excused from afternoo

five-mile drive through a brown and yellow October landscape, they spent a couple of hours romping over the farm, had milk and ginger cookies in Mrs. Spence's kitchen; and started back, wedged in between cabbages and eggs and butter. They chatted gaily on a dozen dif

Van Arsdale? She droops about in corners

onny exchan

ol for ten years for nothing. The little idiot is posing as the object of an unhappy affection. You know that I never favor talebearing,

grinned. "It's an

iss Salli

lemen," Conny explained, "and has f

said Patty sadly. "She'

ets?" inquire

her any letters, but vi

oment of thought, "Girls, I am going to leave

ur ha

it. This is a thing that ought to be regulated by public opinion. Suppose you see what you can do-I will appoint y

what we can do," sa

s Sallie returned with a flickering smile. "You ma

?" Conny asked. "We must t

ie nodded. "Tell Priscilla

r's wife and new baby. They turned inside, their minds entirely occupied with the rival merits of red and white roses. They ordered their flowers, inscribed the card, and then waited aimlessly

a thoughtful moment. The f

d. "She didn't leave any name, and I'd like to know if she wants me to keep

id Patty, with well-assumed indif

s all sixty-four of the St. Ursula girls wore

as she quite tall with a

t's

the type with

f!" Priscilla wh

d and comma

us to send some flowers to Mae, from our-er-secret society. But I'm afraid the treasury is pretty low ju

decoration. 'Cut-and-come-again' they're called. I can give yo

th this card." Patty drew a blank card toward her, and in an uprig

nvelope, then regarde

sked, her eye on the cre

he ackn

hair will come in here and try to make you tell who sent them. You are not to remember. It may even have been a man. You don't know anything about it.

a'am," he

dded darkly, "I shall not be

ch contributed a qua

think we'll have to ask Miss Sallie for an extr

e of her special followers, when the flowers ar

s well as Saturdays!" her room-mate c

e box amid an

, though with a slightly perfunctory underto

retending so long, that by now she almost believed in Cuthbert herself. The c

softly. "They must convey some message. D

e of flowers; but they were

Smith plucked it from a

ith her confidences heretofore, that she was not allowed to withdraw them

t. J.'-Oh, Mae, think ho

or

dn't remain sil

't write a real letter because he promised not

ered in. The card was exhibited in

ows a lot of charact

from the first, had held aloof from the cult

ve variety-Patty had discovered the ten-cent store-but the boxes that contained it made up in decorativeness what the candy lacked; they were sprinkled with Cupids and roses in vivid profusion. A message in the same back hand accompanied each gift, signed sometimes with initials, and sometimes with a simple "

ecial prerogative of the kitchen. "Loved and Lost," "A Born Coquette," "Thorns among the Orange Blossoms." Poor Mae repudiated them, but to no avail; the school had accepted Cuthbert-and was bent upon eliciting

she sobbed. "Somebody's

man would choose," Patty offered comfort. "You know that Englishmen have qu

ind was not very keen, and she sauntered off on a tour of inspection. She happened upon a pile of actors and actresses, and her eye brightened as she singled out a large photograph of an unfamiliar leading man, with curling mustac

mmittee from a consideration of Fra Angelico, an

ighed. "But it costs a

thout soda water for

" as she restudied the liquid, appeali

d fifty cents, and t

d the full name, "Cuthbert St. John." She had it wrapped in a plain envelope and requested the somewhat wondering cl

ernoon study. She received it in sulky silence and retired to her room. Half a dozen of her dearest fr

t, Mae

you s'pos

r candy. He must be st

Mae viciously tossed the

fished it out a

ph!" she squealed. "And he'

ever see

is mustache, or

ell us he had a d

ays wear tho

he photograph away, cast one glance at the languishing brow

she commanded, as, with compressed lips,

n the village-Patty and Conny and Priscilla

ing tones from the rear of the store, when a step sounded behind them, and

ely, "I might have kn

a rustic seat and buried her head on the counter. She had

ll tell the whole school, and

unbending mien. They were no

little goose to make such a fuss ov

man," said Patty, "even if

she was a silly go

-n

ou've been a great

-y

u apologize

N

ny story," Patty ruminate

u're perfec

e to Rosalie?" Pri

ll promise n

to break your engagement to Cuthbert

Thursday; St. Ursula's plunged into a fever of basket-b