“And I’ll ask papa for some money,” Nettie said quickly.  “I had that in mind from the first.”

“My father will give some,” Helen said.

“We’ll write to Madge Steele,” said Belle.  “Her father might help, too.”

“I guess all our folks will be willing to help,” Lluella Fairfax added.

“And,” said Jennie, “here’s Ruth, with a fortune in her own right.”

But Ruth did not make any rejoinder to Jennie’s remark and that surprised them all; for they knew Ruth Fielding was not stingy.

“We are going about this thing in the wrong way, girls,” she said quietly.  “At least, I think we are.”

“How are we?” demanded Helen.  “Surely, we all want to help Mrs. Tellingham.”

“And Old Briarwood,” cried Belle Tingley.

“And all the students of our Alma Mater will want to join in,” maintained Lluella.

“Now you’ve said it!” cried Ruth, with a sudden smile.  “Every girl who is now attending the dear old Hall will want to help rebuild the West Dormitory.”

“All can give their mites, can’t they?” demanded Jennie.  “And the rich can give of their plenty.”

“That is just it,” Ruth went on, still seriously.  “Nettie’s father will give a good sum; so will Helen’s; so will Mr. William Hicks, who is one of the most liberal men in the world.  Therefore, the little gifts of the other girls’ parents will look terribly small.”

“Oh, Ruth! don’t say that our folks can’t give,” cried Jennie, whose father likewise was rich.

“It is not in my province to say who shall, or who shall not give,” declared Ruth, hastily.  “I only want to point out to you girls that if the rich give a great deal the poorer will almost be ashamed to give what they can.”

“That’s right,” said Mary Cox, suddenly.  “We haven’t much; so we couldn’t give much.”

The girls looked rather troubled; but Ruth had not finished.  “There is another thing,” she said.  “If all your fathers give to the dormitory fund, what will you girls personally give?”

“Oh! how’s that, Ruth?” cried Helen.

“Say,” drawled Jennie Stone, the plump girl, “we’re not all fixed like you, Ruth—­with a bank account to draw on.”

Ruth blushed; but she did not lose her temper.  “You don’t understand what I mean yet,” she said.  “Either I am particularly muddy in my suggestions, or you girls are awfully dense to-day.”

“How polite! how polite!” murmured Jennie.

“What I am trying to get at,” Ruth continued earnestly, “is the fact that the rebuilding of the West Dormitory should interest us girls more than anybody else in the world, save Mrs. Tellingham.”

“Well—­doesn’t it?” demanded Mary Cox, rather sharply.

“Does it interest us all enough for each girl to be willing to do something personally, or sacrifice something, toward the new building?” asked Ruth.

“I getcha, Steve!” exclaimed the slangy Jennie.