in hand at the attic door, she swept down the stairs and entered the yellow room, into which a soft light from the hall fell in a welcoming path.

The bed covers were turned down—Vita must have been determined that Nora should use that bed, and the window was properly opened, for the soft breeze stirred the scrim curtains, and a wonderful woodland scent stole into the room.

“It is much better down here,” Nora was forced to admit as she snuggled into the gold and blue coverlet. “I guess I was a nuisance to be so obstinate.”

A few minutes later a step in the hall glided to the electric light button, and the click that followed turned off the light.

That must have been Ted, of course, and she must have known that Nora was now safely tucked in the comfortable bed in the guest room.

“She was waiting for me too,” mused Nora with a twinge of compunction. “I do wonder why they made such a fuss about me staying in the attic?” It was delicious to have every one anxious about her,—so short a time ago no one but the Circle Angel at the Baily School seemed to care whether she slept in her bed or out on the old, tattered hammock, that Barbara wanted to make a tree climber out of; and now in this lovely little bungalow, called The Nest, there were so many beds for her she couldn’t choose.

All the same, with the insistence of her fancies, visions of goblins and goo-gees up in the attic pranced through her excited brain and made the queerest pictures. She shivered as she remembered them.

“But Vita is nothing like a spirit worker,” mused the child. “And she is so kind and seems so fond of me.” Then she had an inspiration.

“I have it,” she all but exclaimed aloud. “Vita knows what is wrong and is afraid I will find out. She is not frightened at it or she would not go prowling around in the dark,” continued the reasoning, “but she has a secret and it is in that attic.”

As if this conclusion settled all disturbing doubts, Nora humped over once or twice and then gave in to the sleep her tired little self was so sorely in need of.

It was the end of a long and too well filled day. She had left the select school with all the instructions of the Misses Baily fairly hissing in her ears. Then there was Barbara’s fun making, in the way of a train letter with all sorts of wild premonitions (they were funny but somehow the train incidents took on the threats of danger Barbara had outlined). But after all, no one had kidnapped her and here she was—yes, asleep in the big fluffy bed in the lovely yellow room.

A whistle—Jerry’s—brought her back. The daylight was streaming in through that wonderful dew laden vine. And oh, the scent!

It was not flowers but woodlands. A bird chirped a polite good morning, and without the usual eye rubbing Nora was sitting up straight and silently thanking the Maker of good things for such a wonderful day.

For the first time in her life she felt that her clothes were not appropriate, and it was some moments before she could decide just which little gown to appear in. They really seemed out of place in that rugged country—her laces and ribbons and fine fussings.

“I suppose the Girl Scouts do wear practical things,” she reflected, “but that horrid khaki!” The thought sent a little shudder through the small, frail shoulders, and Nora, donning her Belgian blue, with brown sandals and two colored socks, was ready, presently, to meet her newly adopted relations. Cap was at her door when she opened it, and this, more than anything else, sent a thrill of joy to her heart. Even a wonderful big dog to welcome her when any dog would surely want to be out doors with Jerry on such a morning!

“Come along, Bob,” called a man’s voice from the lower hall. “We can hardly spare time to eat—there is so much to see this morning.”

Nora was beside him as he continued:

“The kittens are tumbling out of their box, the puppies are fighting over a feather, the chicks are testing their strength on a nice, lively, fat little worm, and oh yes! the calf jumped over the moon—the moon being Ted’s home made gate,” he finished, with that boyish laugh that always made the house ring merrily.

Vita was just coming into the dining room with the muffins as Nora passed her. There was no mistaking the sly wink—the big dark eyes fairly sparkled glints as the maid signalled Nora not to say anything about the attic episode. Nora smiled and nodded, and then the muffins were placed before Mrs. Ted.

“Sleep well, dear?” asked that lady presently.

“Wonderfully,” replied Nora, just a bit cautiously.

“I heard you come down stairs and was rather glad you changed your mind,” continued the hostess, while she poured Jerry’s coffee. “It is much pleasanter on the second floor.”

For a moment Nora wondered whether this was being said to disguise the real happening. Did Mrs. Manton know that Vita had gone up to rouse her?

“Maybe rain today,” interrupted the maid, although the sun shone brightly at the moment.

“Now Vittoria!” objected Jerry. “You ought to know better than to say rain when I have to go away out to the back woods, and I want to have some real work done today.” He glanced over his shoulder at the streaming sunlight. “You’re a fraud, or else you are not awake yet,” he went on. “There is no more sign of rain than of snow.”

“I agree with you for once, Jerry,” chimed in Ted. “The grass was knitted with cobwebs, the sun came up grey, and besides all that the jelly jelled. Now Vita, you see you are completely left. It is not going to rain.”

Vita laughed good naturedly. “Then I say it is goin’ to shine,” she added, and Nora now felt certain her talk had been made to interrupt the comment on the night before.

Breakfast passed off in a gale of pleasantries. The home of the Mantons seemed jollier every moment, to Nora.

“How about the woods?” asked Jerry, while they lingered over the coffee.

“I’m ready,” replied Ted, “and I’m sure Nora will want to come.”

“Oh yes,” with a glance at her inadequate costume. “Will this dress be all right?”

“If it’s the strongest you have with you,” replied Ted. “But we have some very saucy briars and brush. We must see about a real woodsy outfit for you.” She paused a moment, then continued, “I am sure you will like the Girl Scouts when you get to know more about them. I know a group of the girls and to my thinking they are the real thing in girls.”

Nora flushed slightly. One point she had made up her mind on. She was not going to lose her identity by joining in with a group of girls who, she imagined, just did as they were told, and apparently had no ideas of their own. Nora had seen some of the Girl Scout literature and it had not impressed her favorably. It was plain and practical, while she longed for novelty.

“Well, Bob is going to be my scout, at any rate,” chimed in Jerry, quick to sense possible embarrassment. The shade of Nora’s cheeks gave him his cue. “We won’t talk about the regular Scouts until—well, until later,” he finished, in the foolish way he had of making a boy of himself. It was rather foolish, but so jolly. He would wind up everything in just the way Nora never expected, as if his words said themselves.

The visitor was conscious now of something unpleasant stealing in upon her. Would Mrs. Manton oblige her to be different? Couldn’t she dream and play and fancy all the wonderful things she had been storing up for so long? Wasn’t this her dream vacation?

Nannie, that play mother of hers, she knew would not want her to change her peculiar characteristics.

This sort of reasoning flashed before her mind as the party prepared for a day in the woods.

So the little girl in Belgian blue went along with the big man in his knickers and brown blouse, and with the young woman in her service uniform.

Nora