find your ring?" she asked.

Katherine looked startled. "No. And I've lost something else—my great-grandmother's pearl necklace. Mother said I shouldn't take it to school with me, but I was sure I would be careful with it. And I was, girls, I really was. It stayed always in the bottom of my trunk, in its velvet case. I don't believe any of you ever knew about it. I haven't even taken it out since I left home. But yesterday I thought I would make sure that it was safe under everything in the trunk. And I looked, and it was not there. I cannot understand it, but it is true. Mother was right, as usual. I don't know how I am ever to tell her."

There was a dead silence—the silence of dismay. What was this that was among them?

Joan broke it, saying briefly, "Ghost. Rosalind's essay. Kathy's ring. Rachel's gold pencil. Now, Kathy's necklace. Look out for your lamp, Alison!"

"Oh, nonsense," Alison said laughing nervously. "You can't suspect—Oh, I don't like being suspicious."

"All right. I only say, look out."

Chapter VII

WITHOUT LEAVE

"Want to go to a party, Rosalind?"

It was a dull, uninteresting-looking day in early December. Snow was threatening and out-of-doors looked anything but attractive. Rosalind was toiling over a history lesson and wishing that all the kings and queens of France had been guillotined before they made trouble for future generations of schoolgirls, instead of afterward, when a tap at the door heralded Marcia and her exciting question.

Rosalind dropped her book, casting Louis XIV to the winds.

"Of course I do. Where? And when? And how? Tell me quick."

Marcia shut the door carefully. "Any chance of your roommate coming in?"

"No, she's gone home for the week-end. No one will disturb us. I'm supposed to be studying. Didn't you see the sign?"

"Yes, but I knew you weren't hurting yourself with study. Now listen. I am invited to a party at Sara Marshall's tonight, and I can bring a friend with me. Her brother will meet us at the corner with a car, at nine o'clock. I thought of you. Will you go?"

"I'd love to. Have you asked Miss Harland? Will she let us?"

"Rosalind, you are green. What Miss Harland doesn't know won't hurt her. I haven't asked her, and I don't intend to. If you would be afraid to go without leave, I'll ask Alison—but she's such a stickler for rules, I didn't think she would. And this is such a good chance, with your roommate away, and all. We can dress in here after supper, and I'll spend the night with you, if anybody asks. As soon as lights are out, we'll slip down to the basement. There'll be a window unlatched. Ann will do anything for me. See how easy it will be."

It did strike Rosalind that the plan was too clearly arranged to have been settled on such short notice. She said doubtfully, "But when did you see Sara Marshall?"

"Oh, she sent me a note yesterday. I've been thinking of it ever since, and planning it out." But Marcia did not explain that she had seen Sara Marshall the day before, and that all the arrangements had been carefully canvassed before a word was to be said to Rosalind. The note had been merely to say that all was as they had planned, and that her brother and a friend would be waiting at the corner for them. To Rosalind it seemed an impromptu plan for a little fun, and her pleasure-loving little head was quite turned at the prospect.

"The only trouble is," Marcia was off on a fresh tack, "I haven't a thing that is decent to wear. I spoiled my old blue the last time I wore it. It was dreadfully unbecoming, anyway. I don't believe I can go, after all."

"I'll lend you my pink," offered Rosalind, dismayed at the thought of disappointment. "I have a new white dress mother just sent me. Please wear my pink. It would be so becoming to you."

Marcia knew it would be, and after a proper amount of hesitation and protest, she yielded, and the die was cast. The afternoon was an exciting one, and after supper they retired to Rosalind's room, ostensibly to study together. Marcia had asked and obtained permission to spend the night with Rosalind, and with the door securely shut and fastened, the business of dressing was before them.

All went as they had planned. At nine o'clock they cautiously opened the door. All was dark and still in the corridor, and they crept noiselessly downstairs to the basement, where the window had been unlatched for them by one of the maids, bribed by Marcia.

They climbed out, ran swiftly across the lawn, in terror lest someone might be looking from an upper window. But there was no sound or movement from the sleeping rooms. They climbed over the low place in the wall and found themselves out in the quiet street.

No one was in sight, and they scurried along, only intent on getting out of sight of those dark windows. At the corner two dark figures confronted them, and Rosalind barely suppressed a scream. But it was only Tom Marshall, who greeted them cordially.

"Hello, girls, here you are. This is Ray Gordon. We've got a car here. Hop in, it's cold out here. Glad to see you have warm coats."

The coats had been put on chiefly to cover their evening dresses, but they were shivering with cold and excitement, and were glad to find themselves in the warm car.

They were soon in Mrs. Marshall's bright parlors, where a merry crowd was gathered, and were pleasantly welcomed by Mrs. Marshall herself, and by Sara, who introduced them to her friends, some of whom were known to Marcia, but not to Rosalind.

"Miss Harland did not object to your coming, dear?" Mrs. Marshall asked. "I was sure she would not, she and I are old friends—"

"Oh, no, she did not object in the least," said Marcia quickly, forestalling the words she saw on Rosalind's lips, and replying, as she argued to herself, quite truthfully, since Miss Harland had not objected, not having been consulted.

The evening went on. Marcia was very bright and animated. The pink dress was becoming to her. Her cheeks glowed with bright color. A pearl necklace clasped her throat, and on one finger gleamed a ring—a beautiful pearl ring which she certainly had not worn when they left the school. Rosalind wondered. Could she have had the jewels in her hand-bag, and put them on in the comparative darkness of the car? That must have been it, she decided. But she felt uncomfortable, and could not throw herself into the spirit of whole-souled enjoyment as the others did. She was glad when the time came for breaking up, and their two escorts took them back through the quiet streets.

"Here we are," said Tom Marshall, drawing up at the corner. "We'll see you safe to the gate—"

"Oh, no, thank you. It is only a step, and we have to climb the wall. Thank you, and goodnight," protested Marcia, her teeth chattering with cold and nervousness.

Not daring to speak aloud, the girls sped along, keeping close to the wall until they reached the low place where they could climb over without risking the opening of the gate. The basement window was still unlatched. Carefully they scrambled through, and finally stood on the floor—"Safe, and nobody saw us," exulted Marcia in a whisper.

And then, without warning the light flashed on, and the culprits stood revealed to the accusing eyes of Miss Charlton, the teacher on their hall.

For a long minute they faced