"Yes, it is. 'Common usage often converts the most ordinary phrase into slang or colloquialism. The writer should take care to avoid them,'"

Betty quoted. "Try limitless depth."

"All right, that's better still," Angela agreed.

"There's a limitless depth To her bounteous store."

"Oh, marvelous!" Polly exclaimed. "What rhymes with store--paw, law, door, war, more-- More, that's it."

"Each year she gives of--her--her-- We can't use bounty again. Give me a word somebody."

"Riches," Betty suggested.

"Of her riches the more.

"Oh, that's perfect!"

Angela didn't exactly agree, but she didn't say so. Instead she gave them the verse she had just composed.

"Each daughter has shared In the wealth of her days, United we join now In singing her praise."

"Jemima, one of us has a brilliant mind!" Betty exclaimed. "That's too good to forget. Wait till I find a pencil."

There was one in the pocket of her sailor suit and she wrote the words down on the back of a sheet of music.

"Why, that's three verses," she said as she finished with a flourish.

"Let's add one more!" Polly suggested, "with Seddon Hall in it and something about leaving like this:

"And when the time comes"--

"Yes, I know," Betty interrupted eagerly.

"When we must depart"--

"That's good, but I like each, better than we," Polly said critically.

"And when the time comes When each must depart"

"Finish it for us, Ange."

"The memory of Seddon Hall Will remain in our hearts."

Angela chanted promptly. "Seddon Hall is rather too long for the line but I guess it will do."

"Of course it will!" Polly a.s.sured her, as Betty scribbled hurriedly.

"We'll claim poetic license. I'm sure it's worth it. Let's go find the girls, and read it to them."

"Where are they?" Angela inquired. "I think the Dorothys have gone to the village."

"Evelin's in the gym, and Mildred's in the Infirmary," Betty said.

"Where's Lo?"

"In the studio." Polly closed the lid of the piano, preparatory to leaving.

"Well, we can get her at any rate," Betty said. "Come on."

f.a.n.n.y was in the studio with Lois, when they got there. Ever since Polly's promise of friendship, she had been with one or the other of the three girls. Even Angela had taken an interest in her, now and then.

As the friendship grew, and the girls found that she "filled the want that the year lacked," as Betty put it drolly:

"f.a.n.n.y's so nice and such a relief just because she isn't 'us.'" By this she probably meant that the little Southerner would always see things differently from the three who, though totally different, thought and looked at things in pretty much the same way.

"We've finished the song," Polly announced, proudly, as they entered the studio.

Lois looked up from her drawing board.

"I've nearly finished the poster. How do you like it?"

The girls crowded around her, to admire a crayon sketch of a group of wakes dressed in costume, singing. There was a house like Ann Hathaway's cottage in the background, and a big yellow moon just rising behind a hill.

They were delighted with it.

"Just right, Lo!" Polly insisted. "It ought to be English because all the ballads we're going to sing are early English--'Good King Wenceslas Looked Out' and 'G.o.d rest ye, Merry Gentlemen,'--and the rest."

"Oh! I adore those old things," f.a.n.n.y said eagerly. "We always sing them down home, every year."

"Read the song," Lois demanded. "I'm crazy to hear it."

"Hadn't I better go?" f.a.n.n.y offered. "I'm not a Senior."

"Oh, never mind," Polly said, "you won't tell."

"Just the same, I'll go. Will you all have tea in my room this afternoon? I've just gotten a box of cookies from down home," she asked at the door.

"We will," Betty replied without hesitation. "Tea and homemade cookies are the one thing I need after my labors."

The others accepted with equal enthusiasm and f.a.n.n.y left to prepare for them.

When she had gone, Betty seated herself on the window seat and referred to the piece of music.

"Here's the song entire," she announced. "We all helped with, but most of it is Angela's."

"I knew that," Lois said with a grin, but Betty ignored the interruption.

"The tune is 'Flow gently Sweet Afton' and the song is dedicated to Seddon Hall, with apologies to Robert Burns. Here it is," and she read:

"On Hudson's bank Stands fair Seddon Hall.

Truth, honor and joy Is her message to all."