Part 5 (2/2)

”What is it?” she asked gently. ”Perhaps I--we can help you find it.”

”I wish you could,” said Miss Arbuckle, with a little sigh. ”But that would be too good to be true. It was only an old family alb.u.m, Billie.

But there were pictures in it that I prize above everything I own. Oh, well,” she gave a little shrug of her shoulders as if to end the matter.

”I'll get over it. I've had to get over worse things. But,” she smiled and patted Billie's shoulder fondly, ”I didn't mean to burden your young shoulders with my troubles. Just run along and forget all about it.”

Billie did run along, but she most certainly did not ”forget all about it.”

”Funny thing to get so upset about,” she said to herself, as she slowly climbed the steps to her dormitory. ”A picture alb.u.m! I don't believe I'd ever get my nose and eyes all red over one. Just the same, I'd like to find it and give it back to her. Good Miss Arbuckle! After the Dill Pickles, she seems like an angel.”

She was still smiling over the thought of what had happened to the Dill Pickles when she opened the door of the dormitory and came upon her chums.

Laura and Vi and a dark-haired, pink-cheeked girl were sitting on one of the beds in one corner of the dormitory, alternately talking and gazing dreamily out of the window to Lake Molata, where it gleamed and s.h.i.+mmered in the morning sunlight at the end of a sloping lawn.

The dark-haired, pink-cheeked girl was Rose Belser. Rose Belser, being jealous of Billie's immense popularity at Three Towers Hall the term before, had done her best to get the new girl into trouble, only to be won over to Billie's side in the end. Now she was as firm a friend of Billie's as any girl in Three Towers Hall.

”Well!” was Laura's greeting as Billie sauntered toward them. ”Methinks 'tis time you arrived, sweet damsel. Goodness!” she added, dropping her lazy tone and sitting up with a bounce, ”I don't see why you have to go and spoil the whole morning with your beastly old studying. Think of the fun we could have had.”

”Well, but think of the fun we're going to have this afternoon,” Billie flung back airily, stopping before the mirror to tuck some wisps of hair into place, while the girls, even Rose, who was as pretty as a picture herself, watched her admiringly. ”It's almost lunch time.”

”You don't have to tell us that,” said Vi in an aggrieved tone. ”Haven't we been waiting for you all morning?”

”Oh, come on,” said Billie, as the lunch gong sounded invitingly through the hall. ”Maybe when you've had something to eat you'll feel better.

Feed the beast----”

”Say, she's calling us names again,” cried Laura, making a dive for Billie. But Billie was already flying down the steps two at a time, and when Billie once got a head start, no one, at least no one in Three Towers Hall, had a chance of catching up with her.

It seemed to be Billie's day for b.u.mping into people--for at the foot of the stairs she had to clutch the banister to keep from colliding with Miss Walters, the beautiful and much loved head of the school.

At Billie's sudden appearance the latter seemed inclined to be alarmed, then her eyes twinkled, and as she looked at Billie she chuckled, yes, actually chuckled.

”Beatrice Bradley,” she said, with a shake of her head as she pa.s.sed on, ”I've done my best with you, but it's of no use. You're utterly incorrigible.”

Billie looked thoughtful as she seated herself at the table, and a moment later, under cover of the general conversation, she leaned over and whispered to Laura.

”Miss Walters said something funny to me,” she confided. ”I'm not quite sure yet whether she was calling me names or not.”

”What did she say?” asked Laura, looking interested.

”She said I was incorrigible,” Billie whispered back.

”Incorrigible,” there was a frown on Laura's forehead, then it suddenly cleared and she smiled beamingly.

”Why yes, don't you remember?” she said. ”We had it in English cla.s.s the other day. Incorrigible means wicked, you know--bad. You can't reform 'em, you know--incorrigibles.” The last word was mumbled through a mouthful of soup.

<script>