src="@public@vhost@g@gutenberg@html@files@34551@34551-h@images@ch02a.jpg" alt="{Drawing of Adelaide.}" title="" class="c8" tag="{http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml}img"/>RISTOCRATIC Adelaide was now as deeply attached to "that little witch" Winnie as she had been prejudiced against her, and Winnie, who had hitherto spoken of her new friend as "that stuck-up Armstrong girl," was now her devoted admirer.

Although this state of affairs was perfectly agreeable to the Amen Corner, it was not equally so to the Hornets. They had endured Winnie's removal as a piece of Madame's tyranny, had looked upon their Queen as a martyr, and had taken it for granted that we would make things extremely uncomfortable for her. They perceived, with astonishment, that we welcomed her heartily, and when it dawned upon them by degrees that Winnie was herself happy in the change, that she actually promenaded in the corridor with an arm lovingly twined about the waist of that odious Tib Smith, that the placard "Engaged" appeared as frequently on the outer door of the Amen Corner, and that Winnie's lessons and behavior improved so much that she was actually becoming a favorite with the teachers instead of their special torment—the indignation of the Hornets' Nest knew no bounds.

It showed itself in a practical joke originated by Cynthia, which might have been very amusing had it not been spiced with malice. I have spoken of our literary society and its projected entertainment. We were to have a series of tableaux; among others, Guinevere kneeling before an altar. Milly had been chosen to represent Guinevere on account of her beautiful hair, and because she spent her Saturdays and Sundays at home, and could have any costume arranged for herself. What was our disappointment, one Monday morning, to receive a note from Milly saying that she would not be able to take part in the entertainment, as her mother was going to Washington for a fortnight, and had decided that, as Milly looked pale, a little outing would do her good. This note was read to the literary society amid groans from the members. "We can't give up that tableau." "Adelaide, you take the part." "Can't; my hair is as black as a crow's wing. Tib's hair is lovely when it is down. It falls to her knees, and it has the sheen of molten gold. Girls, you must see it," and Adelaide proceeded to pull my braids apart; I protesting all the time that it was absurd to have a freckled Guinevere who was as homely as a hedge fence.

"Granted," replied Witch Winnie, "but nobody is going to see your face, child; you pose with your back to the audience, and as none of the girls know what regal hair you have, it will be such fun to have them guess who it is."

All of the other girls joined in persuading me, excepting one of the Hornets, who lifted her voice in favor of Cynthia Vaughn.

"But, girls, what am I to do for a costume?"

"Why didn't Milly think to send hers along?" said Adelaide. "We might write her."

"No, there's no time; she leaves this morning on the 'limited.'"

"If you would like, I'll take the part," Cynthia Vaughn suggested. "I've all that canton flannel ermine, and the ruff made out of the old window curtains, which I wore when I was Queen Elizabeth."

"That ruff would be a frightful anachronism," said Emma Jane Anton.

"And the ermine has served three times already. Thank you, we'll manage somehow," Witch Winnie asserted, confidently.

We retired to the Amen Corner to talk it over. "If worse comes to worst," said Witch Winnie, "I know I can make a magnificent train out of the plush table-cloth in Madame's library."

"But how will you ever get it?"

"Emma Jane must ask her to lend it to us; she'll do anything for Emma Jane."

"Emma Jane declines to act in this emergency," said Miss Anton, firmly.

"You wouldn't be so mean!"

"But I would; Adelaide, please read Milly's letter again; I didn't half hear it."

"I must have dropped it in the Society hall; I will get it after dinner. If she had thought that Tib might be chosen to take her place, she would have done anything for the honor of the Amen Corner."

Here some one tapped at the door, and announced, "A letter for Miss Armstrong."

"It's from Milly!" exclaimed Adelaide, "and it looks as if it had been opened, and pasted up again."

"I thought Madame boasted that she never submitted her young ladies to that sort of espionage," said Witch Winnie.

"Girls, girls!" Adelaide fairly shrieked; "just listen to this! Milly writes—

"'I forgot to say in my last that mamma's maid is putting the finishing touches to my costume, and Gibson will bring it around to-morrow. The dress (purple velvet) is one which mamma wore last summer when she was presented to the Queen. The lace which trims it was made to order from a pattern of her own selection in Brussels. You may keep the crown, for the gems in it are only Rhinestones. Aunt Fanny wore it at a costume ball, and they sparkle like the real thing. Be careful of the lace, for mamma prizes it highly.

'Yours, Milly.

'P. S.—I've coaxed papa to lend you a silver chatelaine, old French repoussé, linked with emeralds, which he keeps in his cabinet of curiosities. It shows finely against the velvet.'"

How we all exclaimed and chattered! "Now what will the Hornets' Nest say to that?"

"Canton flannel ermine indeed!"

"I should like to see them bring on their old mosquito-netting ruff!"

"Real emeralds! A diadem flashing with diamonds!"

"Don't tell them a word about it until Tib dawns on them in all her glory on Wednesday night."

It was hard to keep this resolution, but we did. The Hornets were giggling and whispering among themselves as we marched in to dinner, with all the importance given by the possession of a state secret. The other girls relapsed into silence as we took our seats, and watched us with strange, significant looks.

"I've been looking up the matter in Racinet's work on Costume," remarked Cynthia Vaughn, "and I find you were right, Miss Anton; ruffs did not come in until long after Arthur's reign."

"I would like to consult the book," Emma Jane replied, "unless you can tell me whether chatelaines were worn at that period."

Here a small Hornet was seized with strangulation, and had to be vigorously thumped upon the back by her friends.

"Oh, I think so," Cynthia replied, sweetly, disregarding her friend's condition. "Wouldn't it be sweet to have Guinevere wear one? Miss Smith is so artistic, I'm sure she could cut one out of gilt paper."

Adelaide scouted the idea. "Whatever we get up for that costume," she said, "I am determined shall be real, no imitation chatelaines, or anything else."

Cynthia lifted her eyebrows. "Perhaps you will secure one of Queen Victoria's court robes?" she remarked, icily.

It was on Adelaide's lips to reply that we might have a robe which had figured at a court reception of the English Queen, but she felt Witch Winnie's foot upon hers, and replied that in undertaking this tableau the Amen Corner felt confident that they could carry it through creditably, and we therefore begged to be excused from the dress rehearsal that afternoon. We left the dining-room in a body, and the Hornets laughed aloud before we closed the door. "'They laugh best who laugh last,'" said Witch Winnie. "Won't those girls fairly expire when they