Five minutes later, the blankets were taken from the bed and hung over the door, that no ray of light from the room might be visible in the hall, through either crack or keyhole.

A second blanket was pinned to the curtains, that neither coachman nor maid returning from the town might catch a glimpse of light.

Then the fun began.

They had become bolder, and forgetting to whisper, talked in undertones.

Vera, mounted on a cushioned stool, was holding the can over the gas jet, and watching eagerly for some sign of boiling.

"The milk is steaming," she announced. "S'pose it's done?"

"Not yet, goosie!" Elf replied, "and I _know_," she continued, "'cause I remember hearing our cook say that the stew was ready when the oysters looked all puckered around their edges."

"O gracious! If that's true, somebody'll have to come and hold this old can a while. My arm is about broken!"

Betty seized the can, and mounted the stool, and Vera, thus relieved, ran to the closet, returning with the cream-cakes and the fudge.

The white counterpane stripped from the bed, and spread upon the floor, served as a lunch-cloth, and when the "goodies" were set upon it, the big can in the center, steaming, if not boiling, the four sat cross-legged around the feast, and prepared to enjoy it.

Salt and pepper in abundance had been thrown into the can, so that while it lacked sufficient cooking, it surely did not lack seasoning.

Bravely each tried to eat her share, but so salt was it, that it almost brought the tears.

The cream-cakes were fine, and the girls were laughing softly over Betty's remark that no one knew of their little "party," when a knock upon the door caused Valerie to drop her cream-cake. In an instant she had rolled over, crawled under the bed, Betty following, while Vera and Elf sprang into bed, drawing the coverings to their chins to hide that they were fully dressed. It was one of Miss Fenler's rules that pupils should never lock their doors.

Now in a harsh voice she called: "Open this door _at once_!"

Vera sprang to the floor, shut off the gas, softly turned the key in the lock, and was back in bed and covered up to her eyes, in a second.

Upon opening the door, Miss Fenler stumbled into the blanket that hung from the door-frame. Crossing the room to light the gas, she put her right foot directly upon a cream-cake, while with her left she upset the can of stew.

An angry exclamation, properly stifled, caused the two under the bed to nudge each other, while struggling not to laugh.

Vera and Elf lay quite still, the puff drawn up to their closely shut eyes.

Miss Fenler lit the gas, and it was just as well that the culprits dared not open their eyes, for the face that she turned toward them was not pleasant to see.

She was desperately angry.

"What does this mean?" she cried shrilly.

Vera and Elf breathed heavily, as if soundly sleeping.

"You're not asleep!" she declared, "and I insist that you answer me.

Again I ask, what does this mean?"

Vera and Elf breathed harder than before, Vera adding a soft little snore.

"Oh, very well!" cried Miss Fenler. "If you are determined not to reply to-night, I will report you to Mrs. Marvin, and you may make your explanations to her to-morrow."

She left the room, her anger increased by their obstinate pretense of slumber.

CHAPTER IV

A WONDERFUL TONIC

Vera awoke long before daylight, and lay thinking.

"That's just the way I do things," she said in a voice barely above a whisper.

"I plan the fun, and always have a good time, that is '_most_' always, but it's sure to wind up in a sc.r.a.pe. I plan how to get into mischief.

Why don't I ever plan how to get out?"

Elf stirred uneasily, and Vera gave her shoulder a vigorous shake.

"Wake up!" she commanded. "Wake up, and help me plan what we'd better say when we have to face Mrs. Marvin."

"Oh, I'm sleepy," drawled Elf. "We're smart enough to say something when she stares at us over her spectacles. We'll say we--"

A wee snore finished the sentence, and Vera turned over with a lurch that shook the bed.

She thought it very hard that she must lie awake and worry, while Elf could sleep; in short, she wanted some one to worry with her.

"It's like the way I climb trees when we're away in the summer," she muttered.

"It's fine climbing up, but I'm always afraid to climb down. If Bob is near, I can always make him get me down, but Bob isn't here to get me out of this mess, and Elf won't even try to keep awake to help me think."

She concluded that it was very unfeeling for Elf to be so sleepy. Her cheeks were flushed, and her head ached.

"O dear!" she whispered, softly, "Dorothy Dainty and Nancy Ferris are full of fun, but they never get into a regular fix such as I'm in now. I don't see how they manage to have such good times without ever getting mixed up in something that's hard to explain. And Betty and Valerie will get off Scot free, for 'The Fender' couldn't see them under the bed, and of course we'll not tell that they were there."

She did not know that when Betty and Valerie had reached their own room they found that in their haste to arrive at the "feast" they had left the light burning in their room!

Oh, indeed Miss Fenler had seen that, and she had opened the door. She had found no one there. She had seen that four had been enjoying the feast, because at each of the four sides of the spread were fragments of partly eaten cream-cakes, or bits of fruitcakes. Her sharp eyes had seen enough to a.s.sure her that two other girls were in hiding somewhere in the room, doubtless the two whose light had been left burning. She thought it clever to let them think that they had escaped notice. Their surprise would be greater when she sent them to Mrs. Marvin the next morning. Daylight found Vera tossing and turning, while Elf was dreaming. It was not that Vera could not bear reproof. She could listen for a half-hour to a description of her faults, and look like a cheerful flaxen-haired sprite all the while. That which now worried her was the thought that Mrs. Marvin might send her home.

It was the fifth time during the month that she had been reprimanded, and even gentle Mrs. Marvin _might_ reach the limit of her patience.

Her father, she knew, would speak reprovingly, and then laugh at her.

Her mother, always weak-willed, would say: "Vera, dear, I wonder if you were really naughty, or if it was that they didn't _quite_ understand you."

Oh, there was nothing to fear about being sent home, but the fact that thus she would lose a deal of fun that she could so enjoy with a lot of lively girls of her own age.

She resolved to appear as off-hand as usual, unless Mrs. Marvin should say that she must not remain at Glenmore, when she would throw pride to the winds, and plead, yes, even beg to continue as a pupil of the school. She turned and looked at Elf, still soundly sleeping.

"O dear! I'm the only girl in school who has anything to fret over," she whispered.