"Thank you, ma'am," said Jean quickly, bowing low, in answer to
the compliment.

But Polly missed the bow, for her curly head was out of the
window, and she was laughing down at a slender, light-haired lad
who was just taking fresh aim at the open window.

"Come up here, Alan!" she called.

"Oh, don't, Polly!" remonstrated Molly from within. "He'll laugh
at us, and spoil all our fun."

"No, he won't," answered Polly valiantly; then, more loudly, "What
did you say, Alan?"

"What are you girls about up there?" he inquired.

"Come up and see." And she drew in her head just in time to escape
a second missile.

"All right; I'll come if you'll promise to play something, and not
spend all your time gabbling." And Alan vanished through the side
door. A minute or two afterwards, his shoes were heard clattering
up the attic stairs.

The four girls, whom he found sitting in a row on the edge of the
bed, were such good friends of him and of each other, that the
five were commonly spoken of as "the V," or, sometimes, as "the
quintette." Alan Hapgood, who was regarded as the point of the V,