"There have been no cases about the town to indicate an epidemic. The little girl's case seems to be not very serious as her fever is abating.

Oh, I think we at least need not feel the slightest alarm. We have no slums to foster contagion."

Still, the two sudden deaths had created a frightened sort of impression. The girls kept discussing them until Phillipa protested.

"Who is going home tomorrow?" she asked. "After all it is only a day sooner, and who has their Christmas gifts done up? Must we save our jolliness until we get home? We are all coming back in a fortnight, and spring comes so soon after the holidays, and there's pegging away at everything and finally graduation."

Some began to hunt up trains, others went to packing. Phillipa kept Louie near her and made funny unsentimental speeches until the old feeling seemed quite restored. Some gifts were exchanged, some guesses as to what home presents would be and they said good-night in the best of spirits.

"Now, Louie," began Phil, escorting her to her door, "if you get a granny fit in the night and see horrible things, you just come to my room and hop into bed with me, and think what a gay time you'll be having tomorrow night this time, much gayer than Miss Nevins with all her money and her three party frocks with no place to display them."

Louie laughed. "Oh, Phil, you're such a comfort," she said with an extravagant hug, "but aren't you going home tomorrow?"

"No, not until Friday. I want to see Zay before I go, and I'm not afraid of unlucky Friday either," laughing.

Louie slept soundly and was in very good spirits. The girls were all eager for the morning paper. The scare was pretty well over. The boys had been buried, the little girl was no worse and if fever did not develop it would simply be a case of measles.

Then most of the girls said good-by, wishing each other a merry Christmas. The others huddled together and bewailed their hard lot, missing Miss Boyd very much. Her mother was quite poorly, which was given as her excuse. Mrs. Dane insisted upon a rigorous exclusion until all danger of contagion was over.

Quite late in the afternoon Phillipa walked over to Crawford House and sent up her card to Zaidee with a penciled message. The girl came flying through the hall, more beautiful than ever Phil thought, in her soft red cashmere with white lace garnishings.

"Oh, Phil dear, I'm so glad to see you! I was afraid you would go home before I had a glimpse of you. We've been so busy and so full of joy!

Oh, you can't think what it is to see mother walking around with no crutches and the wheel chair set aside, and she's in such splendid spirits. Vincent will be allowed to come home as a special favor to papa, getting here early Monday morning and returning that night. We're just going to have a family dinner with a very few dear friends, but New Year's night I am to have a party. Oh, can't you come back a little sooner. I'd like so to have you."

"I don't believe I can, and you know there are the lovers and the diamond ring"--laughing.

"Oh, dear! _Can_ you believe any of it? And the surprise that I'm not going to be pleased with. It isn't that Willard has fallen in love, he is going to have his three years' cruise first. Oh, were you _much_ frightened, Phil? It was dreadful, and no one can tell where the boys took the disease. I can't help feeling sorry for the poor mother if she is a humbug, it is such a sad Christmas for her, and was Louie much frightened?"

"Oh, she almost went into hysterics and I was afraid she'd give us all away, but I did manage to get her off safely, and bound her by the most solemn promises not to mention the escapade at home. It wasn't the right thing for us to do of course, but mischief always looks so tempting to you and if we keep silence no harm will be done. It wasn't as bad as they thought."

A shudder went over Zay's slight figure.

"And I am so glad you didn't worry yourself ill," Phillipa rejoined with real feeling.

"Phil, can't you stay to dinner and see mother? She's lying down now--there have been so many calls. Father brought home the German nurse, who measures off her time in a very funny manner, and he escorts mother down stairs and up again as if he was a young lover."

"No, dear, thank you. When I come back the rush will be over and we will have a good time. I've twenty things to do and start at nine tomorrow.

Good-by and have just the most splendid time, as I shall have. So good luck for a fortnight," and they kissed each other warmly.

CHAPTER VIII

A STRANGE CONFESSION

The girl who had been wrongfully accused was not so light hearted. Mrs.

Dane still preserved her suspicious aspect, and of course the whole school was eager for every bit of news. Lilian said nothing to her mother about the talk, she seemed rather fretful and uneasy, as if she was annoyed by the girl's presence.

So on Thursday afternoon she went out for a walk. Just beyond the gate she saw Edith Trenham coming toward her.

"Oh, were you going out? Let us walk together, then. I have so much to say to you? Did you think it queer?"

"I know now," said Lilian. "It was dreadful!"

"I had to go home for some important school papers, and just slipped in and out again when you saw me. Of course I did not want it spoken of.

Mother has been very careful keeping the windows on that side of the house closed. Claire has never had any of the infantile diseases. The woman thought it measles at first, but they are so particular in the schools, now. We closed today. Mother is going to shut up the house for awhile and board at Mrs. Lane's while they fumigate and burn up. The authorities have ordered the old house torn down. I think not a great many people visited her, though they did at first. I only hope the little girl will not die. Mother spoke to the oldest one that morning and she said her brothers were very ill and that her mother thought she would have a doctor, but it was too late when he came. Oh, I hope there will not be any more cases."

"It would be terrible if they died like that. Our cla.s.ses are dismissed as well, I believe there was a great fright among the girls, and just at Christmas time, too."

"Will you go down with me tomorrow and have a look at the stores? This has upset our plans. I wanted you and your mother to come and take Christmas dinner with us."

"Mother doesn't seem at all well. I doubt if she could go out, and I couldn't leave her for pleasure."

"Well, some other time; and how are you getting along? I suppose you have vacation as well?"

"Oh yes. Madame thinks I shall acquire French easily. She reads French verses so splendidly, and I am doing well in Latin, but oh, there are such stores of reading! It is a hardship to tear myself away, and poetry just enchants me--well, when it is high and fine. I have begun 'The Idylls of the King.' Oh it must be just glorious to write such poetry!"

"It is a rare gift, and it is something to be able to read and appreciate."

"I sometimes envy the girls who have so much leisure, yet they seem not to improve it. But then--oh, you don't know how lovely it is here, how much there is to interest and satisfy. Of course I'm not _quite_ satisfied at present," and Lilian gave a light laugh, "but the town is so truly beautiful and the house--I wonder if it is silly but I walk about at times and do enjoy the soft rugs, the handsome furniture, the pictures, the beautiful bits of art scattered around, and oh, the books!

There never was anything like it in my life before, and if I go back to comparative poverty, which I suppose I shall some day, for I never can earn any thing like this, it will linger in my mind as a journey to some enchanting place. There is so much to learn all the time. Not merely out of books but the sweet and gracious things one can do; Mrs. Barrington is so lovely. Am I tiring you with these visionary things?"

"No, my dear girl, I am glad you can enjoy them and treasure them up without a feeling of envy. We cannot all of us abound in this world's goods, but we can be glad someone has them and is willing to share them with us, at least, allow us to look on."

"I'm going to study every day and get on as fast as possible. I'm longing for the time when I can earn money and have a little home of our own. I wish"--then she paused and recovering herself after a moment, resumed--"I wish to make some nice friends in my own walk in life, among those who really love to work and bring about results."

"And I am sure you will do it. And loving whatever is fine and true and gracious shapes one's character. G.o.d has given us the sense of enjoyment and he means us to make the best use of it that we can. Oh, we must turn about. See how far we have walked, and there is a baby crescent moon."

The dun white of the sky was thinning into blue and here and there a star p.r.i.c.ked through. It was clear and crisp yet the air had a fragrance of the cedars and spruces. They hurried along, and Lilian promised to meet her friend tomorrow for another walk. She had never been an effusive girl, but she could talk so easily to Edith and in the interchange she could throw off the things that annoyed or depressed her.

So they said good-night and she entered the pretty vestibule where she had first seen Mrs. Barrington. Her heart gave a quick bound as she thought of that lady's confidence in her truth. Mrs. Dane must sometime be convinced of her injustice.

She ran lightly up the stairs, wondering a little that her mother's room should be in darkness. Crossing over to the match safe she stumbled over something on the floor and struck a light in half terror.

"Oh mother! mother!" she cried to the prostrate figure. Then in sudden fear she called in the hall--"Oh, will some one come! I cannot tell what has happened to mother."

Miss Arran answered. The face was deadly white and cold, the eyes half open, staring.

"Oh, she is dead! I went out to walk and staid too long." Lilian's voice was full of remorseful pathos.

"No," said Miss Arran. "I think she has only fainted. Her heart beats a little; Let us lay her on the bed and I'll get some restoratives. Is she accustomed to fainting?"

"Not like this. Oh poor mother!"

They laid her on the bed, chafed her hands and bathed her face, using the lavender salts. After a little there was a faint respiration. Then she opened her eyes and murmured something.

"Mother, dear, what happened? And I was away." "It will be better when--when I'm gone." The vague glance seemed to study the girl with poignant anguish. "Oh, yes!--better--"