"Much learning hath made her mad," sighed Polly mournfully, Betty being
a notoriously poor student.

Mollie was staring thoughtfully at their visitor. "That is an Indian
folk dance; perhaps Betty is pretending to be Pocahontas," she
suggested, with such an evident attempt to explain away her friend's
eccentricities that Betty stopped in her dance to laugh, and Polly and
Mrs. O'Neill followed suit.

"I am not mad and I am not playing at being Pocahontas, but as usual
Mollie is nearer right than her sister Polly because there is a good
deal about the Indians in what I want to tell you." Betty sat down
before the three shining candles and taking a little stick from the pile
of wood near by she pointed it at her third candle. "You are to guess
what my strange word, 'Wohelo' means. No, it is not an Indian, word,
although it sounds like it. Mary, you begin by taking the last syllable
first. What is the greatest thing in the world?"

Mrs. O'Neill, some minutes before, had risen half way up from her lounge
and was leaning her head on her arm, while she watched Betty's curious
proceedings. "The greatest thing in the world?" she repeated softly.
"Far wiser persons than I found the answer to that question many years
ago. The greatest thing in the world is love."

Betty nodded. "Now, Polly, you may have the next guess, though you are
sure to say the wrong thing. What is the next greatest thing to love?"

Polly shrugged her thin shoulders, her face still moody in spite of her
recently awakened interest. "Oh, I told you the answer to that question
when you first came into this room, Betty Ashton, though none of you