"I don't know which would be the worse to work for, Professor Bonfanti or my old Uncle Steve, but this I _do_ know: I hope no one will ever take me away from you, Dorothy!"

"And no one shall!" cried Dorothy, throwing her arms around Nancy, and holding her fast.

"I wouldn't have been so frightened if it was just what I saw to-day, but don't you know that just before we left the Stone House, I had a dream of being stolen. I'd not thought of it for weeks, but--well, that man _did_ look like the ballet-master."

Patricia Levine had enjoyed the sleigh-ride. She had liked the clear, bracing air; she had liked being included in the list made out by Mrs.

Marvin for the first ride of the season, but she had been annoyed by Arabella.

She stood drumming on the window-pane, and wondering how to begin the lecture that she intended to give Arabella, that is, if Arabella would _ever_ get her wraps off, and sit down. She turned from the window.

"Well, I never saw such a slowpoke!" she cried.

Arabella blinked. Patricia thought she might as well begin, if she wished to say all that was in her mind before dinner.

"I certainly was provoked with you, Arabella, this afternoon. You looked just umbrageous with all those coats and shawls on," said Patricia.

"I looked what?" Arabella asked with a dull stare.

"I _said_ um-bra-geous!" cried Patricia.

"I don't know what that word means," drawled Arabella.

"Neither do I," said Patricia, "but I know that's the way you looked."

"I can't unb.u.t.ton this top b.u.t.ton of my coat," remarked Arabella.

Patricia jerked the b.u.t.ton from the b.u.t.tonhole, and continued:

"How do you s'pose I like to have you act so queer, and then have the girls call you my 'chum'?"

Arabella instead of replying to the question remarked:

"And the fringe on this shawl has caught on a hook on my dress so I can't get it off."

Patricia's eyes were blazing. She was so angry that she hardly knew what she was saying.

"The idea! You had on two coats and a sweater, and as if that wasn't enough for any one girl to wear you went after two shawls. When you got all those duds on you looked as big as an _elegant_!"

"A _what_!" gasped Arabella.

"I'm too tired to say it over again," said Patricia, who now knew that she had made a funny error.

"But," persisted Arabella, "you said I looked as--"

It was no use to talk to the walls, and Patricia had rushed from the room, banging the door behind her.

There were weeks at Glenmore when everything went smoothly. Then there would come a week when it certainly seemed as if every one were doing her best to cause disturbance.

Usually the fault might easily be traced to the pupils, but there were times when Miss Fenler seemed as contrary as the most perverse pupil. On those days no one could please her.

Dorothy had little difficulty, but Vera, Elf, Betty, and Valerie were forever vexing her, and Patricia was never able to win her full approval. As for Arabella Correyville, Miss Fenler did not understand her, and Betty Chase said that "The Fender" fixed her sharp eyes upon Arabella, and appeared to be studying her as if she were a very small, but very peculiar bug that she was unable to cla.s.sify.

There was yet another pupil who puzzled her, and, for that matter, puzzled the other pupils.

She was an old-fashioned little girl, who was letter-perfect in all her studies, but never brilliant, more quiet than any other girl at Glenmore, and so silent that one marveled that a little girl could be so still. Always neatly, but very plainly dressed, she looked like a little Puritan, and acted like one, as well.

And what a name the child possessed! Patience Little, and she lived up to it.

"Do you think she'd jump if a fire-cracker went off behind her?"

questioned Valerie, one day.

"No, indeed, she would not," said Elf, who stood near. "I don't believe she would so much as turn around to look at it. She's s.p.u.n.kless."

But they were mistaken.

Among themselves they spoke of her as "Little Patience."

Once Betty Chase told her that she knew a girl whose name was "Patience," who was always called "Patty."

"My family does not like nicknames," was the reply in a low voice, as she turned away.

The day after the sleigh-ride, Lina Danford, one of the youngest pupils, came rushing down the stairway in great excitement.

"My amber necklace has been stolen! Girls! Do you hear? My amber beads are gone! Some one has been in my room and stolen them! Somebody ought to catch the burglar!"

Dorothy, standing near, put an arm around her, and tried to comfort her.

"Don't say it is gone, Lina, dear! It may be just mislaid. If you like, Nancy and I will go up with you, and help you hunt," but Lina was not easily to be comforted.

She insisted that the beads had been stolen, and that, therefore, it was idle to search.

Patience Little, for the first time, showed a bit of interest. She was crossing the hall when Lina raced down the stairs, and she actually paused to listen to what the little girl had to say. She said nothing, and after a moment, she went up-stairs.

She forgot to close her door, and going over to her dresser, opened its upper drawer. From a velvet case she drew forth a smaller velvet case, which, when she touched a clasp, sprang open, displaying a handsome string of amber beads. She held them up so that the light might play through them.

"I never wear them," she said softly, "but I've liked looking at them.

Aunt Millicent gave them to me, and maybe I'd like to wear them sometime, but," she continued, "I'll not be selfish and keep them for _some time_. I'll give them to Lina, in place of those that she has lost."

Hurrying along the upper hall, Lina was surprised to see that the next door that she would pa.s.s, stood open. She was about to pa.s.s it, when on glancing toward it, she saw Patience standing before the gla.s.s, turning this way and that so as to get a better light on the amber necklace that she wore.

With a little cry, Lina sprang into the room. Patience turned, and was about to speak, but before she could say a word, Lina shouted:

"That's my necklace! I _knew_ somebody had taken it, but _I_ never dreamed it was a Glenmore girl who did it. I thought it was a burglar.

Give it to me this minute!"