“I am sorry that you have been so disturbed,” said Mrs. Livingston kindly.  “I do not think Miss Thompson will have any further attacks of nightmare to-night.  If she does, of course we shall have to remove her to some other tent where she will not disturb any one except possibly a guardian.  Now get back to bed, girls.”

The two guardians waited until quiet had once more been restored in the tent, then retired leaving the girls again in darkness.  Tommy was still trembling, but the keen edge of her fright had worn away.

Harriet lay wide awake for some time.  She heard faint whispers being exchanged between Patricia and Cora.  Harriet recalled a swift look that passed between the two girls when Tommy was telling her exciting story.

“Those girls have had something to do with this,” declared Harriet to herself.  “But surely, they were not to blame for Tommy’s having had the nightmare.  Tommy had only herself to blame for that.  Still, how did she get outside?  That is what I should like to know.  I think Miss Patricia Scott and Miss Cora Kidder could explain something of that if they were to tell the truth.”

Having reached this conclusion, Harriet Burrell went to sleep and slept until morning without further interruption.  She was awakened by the morning bell.  Patricia and Cora had already dressed and gone out.  Tommy was asleep, deaf to the jangling morning bell.

“Tommy, Tommy!  Get up,” called Harriet.  Tommy muttered.  Harriet went over and shook her until she was wide awake.  “You have only fifteen minutes to dress, dear.”

“I don’t want to dreth.  I want to thleep,” objected Tommy.  Harriet pulled her out of bed, causing Tommy to sit down heavily on the floor.  Muttering and scolding, Grace dragged herself about wearily and began making her morning toilet.  But she protested with every move she made.  Just before the fifteen minute time allowance had expired, the two girls stepped out into a glorious forest morning.  Great trees towered above them, the forest birds were raising their voices in a melodious chorus, fresh, pungent odors from spruce and hemlock trees filled the air and somewhere near at hand, a stream splashed and rippled musically.

“Glorious!” breathed Harriet.  “Oh, isn’t it wonderful, Grace, dear?”

Grace Thompson’s eyes lighted up appreciatively, then they danced merrily.  All at once, Grace raised her voice shrilly in the yell of the Meadow-Brook Girls: 

    “Rah, rah, rah,
     Rah, rah, rah! 
     Meadow-Brook, Meadow-Brook,
     Thithboom ah!”

“Tommy, Tommy, you shouldn’t have done that,” rebuked Harriet.

Fully a dozen girls sprang from their tents attracted by the new cry; then they began laughing when they saw Harriet in her torn skirt and had gotten a good look at Tommy Thompson’s impish face.

“Young ladies, do you know what day this is?” reminded one girl who seemed older than any of the others outside.