“Yes, Mrs. Livingston,” replied Harriet.  “She went to her tent to make herself presentable.  I think she will be here in a moment.  It has been at least half an hour since I left her.”

“We will be seated.  Under the circumstances no discredits for tardiness will be imposed.  Seats!”

Instead of proceeding at once with the serving of the meal a few moments were occupied in chatting, in which guardians and Chief Guardian took an animated part.  Finally, it was decided to go on with the meal.  Before doing so, Mrs. Livingston requested a girl to go to Jane’s tent to bring her.  Then Mrs. Livingston bowed her head to say grace.

Her words were interrupted by a lively chatter outside the tent and a loud laugh.  She continued to say grace, but just as she was pronouncing the concluding words, Crazy Jane tripped into the tent.  The girl paused at the entrance and surveyed her companions quizzically.

“Hello, girls!” she cried.  “You’re all as solemn as a pack of aged owls at midday.  May I come in?”

There was a titter at her words, then a horrified gasp as the eyes of the Camp Girls were raised to the face of the new girl.

Jane had appeared in full evening dress.  Her gown of old rose messaline was cut very low in the neck, with mere abbreviations in the way of sleeves.  The skirt was cut “en train,” and the frock was far too elaborate for a girl of her age, even though it had been suitable for the occasion.

A little wave of suppressed giggles rippled over the assemblage as Jane walked toward the Chief Guardian with easy assurance.

Mrs. Livingston rose and advanced to meet the new girl.  There was a humorous twinkle in the eyes of the Chief Guardian, but her face was almost stern.

“Isn’t she a fright?” muttered Cora.

“The worst I ever saw,” agreed Patricia under her breath.  “I should like to see myself making friends with her.”

“Young ladies,” said Mrs. Livingston, facing the tables.  “Permit me to introduce to you Miss Jane McCarthy of Meadow-Brook.  Miss McCarthy has not been with us long enough to become familiar with our regulations regarding dress.  You will therefore, with me, excuse her somewhat elaborate costume for this once.”

“What’s the matter with my gown?  Don’t you like it?” demanded Jane, twisting her head sideways for a better view of the general effect of her costume.

“Thave me!  Oh, thave me!” wailed Tommy, dropping her head on the shoulder of Harriet Burrell.

CHAPTER XV

THE GHOST OF WAU-WAU

A silence so deep that the light breathing of the Camp Girls was plainly heard, had settled over the interior of the tent.  The faces of some of the girls wore a horrified expression; on the faces of others there were lurking smiles.  Harriet suppressed her laughter with difficulty.  But Mrs. Livingston understood how to deal with Crazy Jane.