"I do not know," answered Loring promptly, looking her squarely in
the eye.

"Some one of our mutual acquaintance," she persisted shrewdly.
"Twice, now, attachments have been served on Mr. Gamble when the
news of his having attachable property could only have come from our
set."

They had turned the corner of the lilac screen and found a little
summer-house occupied by Sammy and Winnie, and the low mellow voice
of Winnie was flowing on and on without a break.

"It's the darlingest vanity purse I ever saw," she babbled. "Sister
Polly bought it for me this morning. She's the dearest dear in the
world! I don't wonder you're so crazy about her. How red your hand
is next to mine! Madge Cunningham says that I have the whitest and
prettiest hands of any girl in school--and she's made a special
study of hands. Isn't that the cunniest sapphire ring? Sister Polly
sent it to me on my last birthday; so now you know what month I was
born in. Jeannette Crawley says it's just the color of my eyes. She
writes poetry. She wrote some awfully sweet verses about my hair.
'The regal color of the flaming sun', she called it. She's
dreadfully romantic; but the poor child's afraid she will never have
a chance on account of her snub nose. We thought her nose was cute
though. Miss Grazie, our professor of ancient history, said my nose
was of the most perfect Greek profile she had ever seen--just like
that on the features of Clytie, and with just as delicately formed
nostrils. We set the funniest trap for her once. Somebody always
told the principal when we were going to sneak our fudge nights, and
we suspected it was one of the ugly girls--they're always either the