After the hounds had consulted in the corner of the pasture, they made the circle again. As they reached the bridge for the third time, they were both tired and discouraged. In the middle they halted.

Underneath, the hares huddled breathlessly and Florence Guile's voice came down to them.

"It's after five o'clock, really, I think we'd better give up."

And Betty made answer:

"I suppose so, but it seems dreadful to be beaten by the new girls."

"Hardly by the new girls," laughed Louise, "beaten by that little Polly Pendleton. I don't believe any of the rest could have done it."

So proud were the triumphant hares under the bridge, that they didn't even resent this remark.

"Who can call the loudest?" Louise continued. "Betty, you can tell them we give up, we'll have to go 'round the trail again till we find them."

Betty walked dejectedly to the side of the bridge, pushed her flying hair from her face, put both hands to her mouth and taking a tremendous breath, yelled:

"Come in! Come in! We give up."

Before the echo had died away, sixteen grinning faces appeared from under the bridge.

There was a moment of speechless amazement, and then Polly asked in a quiet voice that contrasted ridiculously with Betty's mighty yell:

"Were you calling us?"

"Look, they're here."

"Under the bridge."

"Where's the trail?"

"Here, look!"

"We're blind!" came the chorus from the startled hounds, followed by:

"How did you do it?"

"Have you been here all the time?"

"Polly, you're a wonder!"

"The new girls never won before."

"Three cheers for Polly!" and suddenly the leader of the hares was the center of an admiring and enthusiastic crowd.

Something had happened, she was no longer just one of the new girls; by this little act, she had won her right to a place in the big school.

Had you asked any of the old girls to explain the difference they would probably have expressed it as Lois had earlier in the day by telling you that:

Polly had proved herself to be thoroughly "Seddon Hallish!"

CHAPTER III

THE WELCOME DANCE TO THE NEW GIRLS

School had opened on Monday and today was Sat.u.r.day. It had been an exciting week for everybody getting acquainted and settled, and the time had flown.

Today was very important, for it was the date set for the old girls'

welcome dance to the new girls. All week there had been whisperings and talk of it, but none of the new girls really knew anything about it.

Friday afternoon the bulletin board had flaunted a poster of a big smiling girl, holding out her arms in welcome to a shy little la.s.s with her finger in her mouth. Mary Williams had painted it, and it was truly a work of art. On it were the words:

WELCOME DANCE TO THE NEW GIRLS SAt.u.r.dAY, AT 8 P. M., IN a.s.sEMBLY HALL

As Polly sat up in bed and stuffed her fingers in her ears-she hadn't grown accustomed to the rising bell yet-she suddenly thought what day it was.

Bouncing out of bed, she slipped into a dressing gown, dashed through the corridor down a flight of stairs to a long room lined on either side with doors leading into tiled bathrooms with sunken porcelain tubs. They had been built only two years, and so magnificent were they after the old ones, that the girls had christened them The Roman Baths and the corridor, Roman Alley.

As Polly took the last two steps at a jump, she ran bang into Betty, the freckled face.

"Whither awa' in such mad haste, and what have I ever done to you that you should want to see my poor nose any flatter?" asked Betty, carefully pretending to straighten her nose.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Betty; did I hurt you?" answered Polly. "I was in such a hurry to get a tub. Some one always beats me, and I've been late to breakfast twice."

"Why not try my stunt and get up ten minutes before the bell? But you're all right this morning," and Betty pointed to the row of open doors.

"Turn on the water and then we can talk."

In a minute they were both sitting huddled up on the bottom step, while the water was splashing into their tubs.

"Know who you're going with tonight?" began Betty.

"No. Do you know who has asked me?" inquired Polly.

She had known all week that on the morning of the dance each new girl would receive a written invitation from one of the old girls, asking her to be their guest for the evening.

"Ha, ha," laughed Betty, "don't you wish you knew? Yes, I was there and I heard you bid for; also I was with her when she put the note in your desk. I think you'll be pleased."

"Ah, go on, tell me, please," teased Polly.

"Indeed, I will not," Betty exclaimed. "I will tell you that you won't like Miss Hale any better this time next year than you do now-I will tell you that we will have pancakes for breakfast-or that tomorrow's sermon will be very dull, but tell you the name of the girl who is going to take you tonight, certainly no-"

She stopped short in her dramatic speech as she caught the warning gurgle that water gives in a tub, just a few seconds before it runs over.

"Great Caesar's Ghost! our baths!" she cried, and both girls dashed for their tubs, and in a minute there came the sound of splashing from behind the closed doors.