“Ah, Susy, here I am.  I want to speak to you.”

Susy ran up to her in excitement.  It was already whispered in the school that their secret proceedings were becoming known.  It had also been whispered from one to another that Kathleen had undergone a formidable interview with Miss Ravenscroft that very morning.

“What is it, Kathleen?” said Susy.  “Was she very, very cross?”

“Who do you mean?” asked Kathleen, instantly on the defensive.

“Miss Ravenscroft.  You went to see her; every one knows it.  What did she say?”

“That is my affair.  But, Susy, I want you to do something.  We must not go to the quarry to-morrow evening.  We want to have the meeting at your aunt’s.  I want to go to Mrs. Church’s.  You must run round this afternoon and make arrangements.  There’ll be about thirty or forty of us, and we must all be smuggled into the cottage.”

“Oh, dear!” said Susy.  “But how are we to get there?  It’s four miles away.”

“Well, I suppose those who are really interested can walk four miles.  I certainly can.  Susy, you had better not miss it to-morrow night, for Aunt Katie O’Flynn is to be present, and there’s no saying what she will do.  She will help us if any one can.  She is ever so kind, and so interested.  It will be the greatest meeting the society has ever had; I wouldn’t miss it myself for the world.”

“Oh, hurrah!” said Susy.  “You certainly are a splendid girl, Kathleen.  And won’t Aunt Church be pleased?”

“Tell her that if she wants to get one of the little almshouses she had better oblige us as far as she can,” said.

Kathleen.  “Now I must rush back to dinner.  I am going to town afterwards.”

Without waiting for Susy’s reply, Kathleen turned on her heel and returned home.  Susy watched her for a minute, then slowly and gravely went in the direction of her mother’s shop.  Mrs. Hopkins was getting in fresh stock that morning, and the little shop looked brighter and fresher than it had done for some time.  It was a beautiful day in the beginning of winter, with that feeling of summer in the air which comes to cheer us now and then in November.  Susy marched through the shop, still swinging her satchel.

“I wish you wouldn’t do that, Susy,” said her mother.  “And I wish, too, that you wouldn’t always be late home.  Be quick now; there’s pease-pudding and pork for dinner.  Tom is in a hurry to be off to his football.”

“Oh, bother!” said Susy.

Mrs. Hopkins frowned.  Susy, in her mother’s opinion, was not quite so nice and comforting as she once had been.  But it was not Mrs. Hopkins’s way to reproach her children; she bore her burden with regard to them as silently and patiently as she could.

Susy ran up to her room, tossed off her hat, washed her hands, and came down.  Soon the three were seated at their frugal dinner.

“You seem to have got in a lot of fresh goods, mother,” said Tom.