Benton went on criticizing as if nothing had happened, but we felt mighty queer. Then Bottle Green stooped over to get her paint-box, and up she starts, most tragic-like, with her hand, on her shoulder, and she solemnly announces she's broken her arm."

"Poor thing, she's done it at last!" cried Patricia compa.s.sionately.

"Then what happened?"

"She got safely off, and then the model began to look queer, and in a minute she'd fainted. Howes brought her to with a gla.s.s of mineral water, and the cla.s.s broke up. But the model didn't go. After Benton had made a small spicy speech of farewell--he's leaving, can't stand being sa.s.sed--she got up on the stand and gave us a bunch of monologues that were out of sight. She used to be on the variety stage until she lost her voice. I tell you, Kendall missed it."

"What did I miss?" called Elinor's voice from the other room, where she had come in unnoticed.

She came to the doorway with her hat and furs still on and repeated the question. Griffin gave her a synopsis of the row and the casualties following, which she received with a little protesting laugh.

"I can't say it sounds better than the architectural show," she said, pulling out her hat-pins.

"That part wasn't," agreed Griffin, "though a bit more sporting perhaps. But what came after was. Mary Miller, the model, told us the most wonderful story--her own life, first in the bush in Australia and then here in New York and Chicago; and who do you think she is?"

"Melba in disguise?" mocked Elinor gayly.

"Stuff!" snorted Griffin, impatiently. "Her family comes from Rockham, and her grandmother used to live at Greycroft. She's going out to see the place when it gets warmer. I didn't tell her you lived there now, for I didn't know whether you'd want----"

"Lands to goodness, I believe I've seen her!" exclaimed Miss Jinny.

"There was a Mary Miller, a little thing about five, used to play about the place when old Miss Spence lived there. Her mother married again and went to Australia. Must be the same one."

"Come over to the shop tomorrow and see if it isn't--" Griffin began, when there was a sound of laughter and talking in the outer hall and the door opened to admit Bruce, Margaret Howes, the two Halden girls and Judith.

Mr. Spicer and Mrs. Sh.e.l.ly came in almost at the same time, and Miss Jinny's delicious tea and nut-cakes were served with great gayety and lively chatter. The Haldens, having come from a two-days vacation at Rockham, were full of neighborhood gossip and gave very circ.u.mstantial accounts of Greycroft, Hannah Ann and Henry.

"We saw Hannah Ann and Henry on Sat.u.r.day and got all the news about the place from them. Major had the colic one night, but Hannah Ann saved him with a quart of homeopathic pills," laughed Miriam. "Everything looked just as natural as life when we drove by this morning. They'll be mighty glad to see you all when you go back."

"What are you putting up in the garden, Elinor?" asked Madalon, stirring her tea. "I noticed that Henry had a lot of poles planted along the south shrubbery----"

Judith's dismayed exclamation cut short her account of the activities at Greycroft.

"Now you've done it!" cried Judith in distress. "She knows all about it, and I meant it for a surprise! Oh dear!"

"I'm awfully sorry--" began Madalon, contritely, but Judith was too deeply disappointed to be very polite.

"Hannah Ann and I have been writing about it for ever so long," she lamented, "and we were having it put just where you wanted it, Elinor, and Henry got the trees from the wood lot, and we were going to have it for a surprise--" She broke off, choking.

Elinor slipped an arm about her. "But what is it, Ju dear?"

"A pup-pup-pergola," spluttered Judith, recovering a bit. "Just the sort you wanted. And we planned for Miss Pat to make one of those lovely stone seats out of concrete. But it isn't any use, now," she ended forlornly.

"Don't be a m.u.f.f," said Patricia briskly. "It's twice as good, don't you see, coming out this way? Here are eight people surprised all in a bunch, instead of merely Elinor and poor me. You've sprung it in the very nick of time, Infant."

"Sure thing," supplemented Griffin genially. "I'm in it now, and if you'd put it off, I'd been in Kalamazoo or Madagascar, and missed it all."

Judith with this encouragement began to take heart, and by the time Mr.

Spicer and Margaret Howes had joined their congratulations to the others, she was fully recovered and enjoying herself immensely, arguing with Margaret Howes and Bruce as to the shape of the projected seat with a freedom that was usually denied her.

The subject of Mary Miller was brought up and discussed with great interest. Everyone advocated Miss Jinny's visit to the Academy, and Judith added the hope that the descendant of the old housekeeper at Greycroft might be able to throw some light on the disappearance of the old miser's silver and bank books, a remark that caused some consternation among the elder members of the party.

"Don't you go making suggestions of that sort," warned Bruce, with impressive authority. "The girl will feel as though her great-grandmother were a thief."

"Oh, I wouldn't put it that way," cried Judith, scandalized. "I'd just sort of hint around gently. Maybe they dug it up long ago."

"Ju's got the idea from her last thriller that the Dutchman who used to live at Greycroft buried his treasure somewhere about the place,"

explained Patricia to Griffin. "I suppose she'll spend her time grubbing this summer."

Griffin pushed up her blouse sleeve, showing a remarkably thin arm.

"I'm your man, if you ever want a pal," she said to Judith. "I'm trained down to the right weight now and ready for business."

Judith did not know whether she was being chaffed or not, so she dexterously changed the subject.

"Doris Leighton's sister has the scarlet fever," she announced, enjoying the stir that the name caused, "and Doris is nursing her. She takes turns with the nurse, and Geraldine cries when she goes out of the room."

"Phew, that doesn't sound like our fine lady of the stony heart!"

exclaimed Griffin. "Are you sure, kidlet?"

Judith nodded emphatically. "Mrs. Leighton told Miss Hillis over the phone, and she told the cla.s.s, as 'an example of sisterly devotion,'

she called it. I felt like telling her _what I knew_."

"Judith Kendall, you're a little monster!" cried Patricia, indignantly.

"Even if Doris did cheat, she's doing a n.o.ble thing now, and we ought to be the last to blab, since Elinor got the prize. Doris had to pay for her sins and she has human feelings, too."

"Pooh, she didn't have to pay much," said Judith with the callousness of childhood. "She only gave back the prize and left the Academy."

"I'm glad to hear that she is making good now," said Margaret Howes gravely. "I always felt there was a lot of good in Leighton under her fluff."

"Perhaps it took hard rubs to bring it out," said Miss Jinny, pouring another cup for Mr. Spicer. "We poor human critters are like that sometimes. Good times spoil us. Maybe she's had it too easy, poor girl."

"Souls have muscles, the same as bodies do, and they need exercise,"

agreed Bruce thoughtfully. "I know lots of fellows who are failures through having too much money. It's a dangerous thing to let your soul get seedy."

"Golly, that pretty nearly hits us all, doesn't it?" said Griffin apprehensively. "I'm not so sure about myself, now you mention it.

Doris Leighton may be one ahead of me in this business. Fatty degeneration of the soul is a new one to me."

They were all rather serious for a silent moment, and then Patricia spoke. Her clear voice was rather low and timid, but her eyes were shining.

"Let's phone to her and tell her that we all hope Geraldine will soon be well," she said, looking at Elinor with loving confidence.

There was a murmur of a.s.sent and Elinor rose quickly.

"The very thing, Miss Pat," she agreed radiantly. "I'll look up the number for you."

But Patricia shrank from appearing too magnanimous.

"It's your affair, Norn," she demurred. "You ought to do the talking."

So Elinor went into the sitting-room where the telephone was, and in the intervals of their rather forced conversation, they could hear sc.r.a.ps of her kind questions and gentle answers. When she returned to the studio, her face was glowing.