"Didn't you adore 'Peter Pan'?" and a thousand other questions.

They reached school at six o'clock and as Polly and Lois strolled down the corridor, waiting for the supper bell, Lois said:

"Well, here we are, back again. Polly, I never had such a good time.

I'll never be able to thank you."

"Oh, bother the thanks," replied Polly. "Do you know, Lois, now that we're back I feel as if we had never been away."

"I know," Lois sighed regretfully. "It's more like a wonderful dream.

Still it is good to be back, you know it is."

"Of course it is," Polly agreed heartily.

Just then the gong rang and they went down to supper.

CHAPTER X

THE VALENTINE PARTY

On the twelfth of February, Mrs. Baird announced after school, that there would be a masquerade party on Valentine's Day.

"Last year, the old girls will remember, that we had a book party, and it was great fun," she said, "but this year, I have thought of something entirely new. I want you all to dress as famous women in history. Choose the particular heroine you admire most, find a picture of her in the library, and try to copy it. The attic will be open this afternoon and you may take what you want from the costume trunks. The Seniors have the affair in charge and they are offering a prize for the best representation." The girls clapped their appreciation of this novel idea and Mrs. Baird continued:

"Don't all come as Queen Elizabeths, and Betsy Rosses, find some one not so well known, and whom you really admire. There will be lots of visitors on the platform and I want you all to look your best."

"Jemima," Betty gasped, when they had been dismissed and she, Lois and Polly were in the latter's room. "Who under the sun can we go as?"

"It is hard, isn't it?" Lois said, "but you had a splendid costume last year; didn't you go as the Last of the Mohicans?"

"Yes, I have my Indian suit."

"Why don't you go as Pocahontas?" Polly suggested. "Your hair isn't black, but it would look great in two heavy braids."

"That's just what I'll do. I'll go grab that suit before any of the others get it." And Betty dashed for the attic.

Lois jumped as the door slammed. "Isn't that just like Bet, she ought to go as a little whirlwind. Poll, what can we go as?"

"I don't know, let's ask Miss Porter."

"Do you suppose we can find her?"

"Yes, she's probably in her room."

They walked down Faculty Corridor, and tapped gently at the last door on the left.

"Come in," called a voice, not Miss Porter's.

They entered, to find Miss King, the trained nurse, sitting on the window box, a bunch of artificial flowers in one hand, and a rather battered velvet hat in the other.

"Is Miss Porter here?" Lois asked.

"Yes, just a minute," Miss Porter was struggling in the depths of her closet. "I'll be with you in a second; sit down."

"What is it, costumes?" Miss King asked, when they were seated on the couch.

"Yes, we thought Miss Porter would help us decide what to wear," Polly explained.

"I'm here about costumes, too, but it's hardly the same. I'm begging. I found that poor little wretch Martha, who works in the laundry, out yesterday without a hat. I told her she'd catch her death of cold and to go put one on right away. She said she couldn't because she didn't have any."

"Oh, the poor kid," Polly's sympathy was genuine.

"I've a tam I could give her to wear every day," she said shyly, "if you think-"

"Think, I know she'd love it. I'll come to your room and get it after you've had your talk with Miss Porter. Thank you. I was trying to rig up something out of these," she shook the flowers and hat, "but a tam will save the day."

While this conversation was going on, Lois had been explaining their difficulty to Miss Porter.

"'Women in History.' That ought to be easy." Miss Porter thought for a minute. "Mrs. Baird really wants you to go as your favorite characters?

Lois, who is your favorite heroine?"

"Jeanne d'Arc, the martyred Maid of Orleans," Lois replied dramatically.

"Do you think I might go as Jeanne d'Arc?" she asked eagerly.

"I like that," Polly interrupted. "I thought at the Hallow-e'en party I was to be a Jeanne d'Arc. Oh, well, I give up my rights for this once; besides," she added seriously, "I don't really love her the way you do."

"Won't armor be hard to imitate?" Miss King asked.

Miss Porter walked over beside the window and took down a framed picture from the wall. She held it behind her back.

"Armor won't be necessary," she said. "Lois, have you ever seen the Jeanne d'Arc painting by Jules Bastien-Lepage, at the Metropolitan Museum in New York City?"

"Oh, yes, of course, I saw it this vacation. She's standing in the woods, just in peasant clothes. I love it. She looks as if she were seeing visions. You remember it, Poll?" Lois was all excitement.

"Here's a copy of it," Miss Porter said, producing the picture. "And Lois, I declare you look like her. There, you may keep this print to refer to, it ought to be very easy to find a peasant's costume. Now Polly, who's your favorite heroine?"

Polly rumpled her hair, hesitated, and rumpled her hair again.

"She's not very well known, at least, I never heard any one talk about her," she answered, "but I think she's the bravest woman that ever lived. We had a book about her at home, that I used to read and re-read on rainy days."

"Well, what's her name?" Lois demanded impatiently.

"Florence Nightingale, the Angel of the Crimea," Polly said, very solemnly.

"Oh, Polly, do you love her, too?" Miss King's eyes were shining. "So do I."