“Letters!” was the joyful cry.  “Give them to us, Teddy, before we take them from you.”

“Oh, do you really think you could?” he asked, holding them behind his back by way of challenge.  “Just come on and try.  I’ll guarantee to hold off the three of you with one hand.”

But it was Billie’s pleading face that made him change his mind.

“Please, Teddy,” she begged, “I’ve just been dying for some letters from home.  Don’t keep me waiting.”

“All right, your word is law,” said Teddy gallantly, remembering that he had read the phrase somewhere and it had sounded very good.  “Here you are, and here’s one for Vi and two for Laura.”

“Goodness, what have I done to get only one?” cried Violet, feeling very much abused.

“Well, your one looks fat enough to make up for our two,” Billie assured her diplomatically, then settled back to enjoy her own letters, while Teddy ran out to join the boys downstairs.

One of her letters was from her mother, and with a loving smile she laid it aside to be read last—­she always saved the best till the last.  The writing on the other envelope puzzled her.

“Now, who is writing to me from Mayport, Long Island?” she demanded, and the girls looked up inquiringly from their letters.

“Another mystery?” asked Laura, for there were not enough mysteries in the world to satisfy Laura.

“It doesn’t look very mysterious,” answered Billie, turning the envelope around and around in her hand and finally holding it up to the light to see if she could get any clew to its contents that way.  “But I surely never did see that handwriting before.  I wonder—­”

“Well, why don’t you open it?” Violet inquired impatiently.  “It seems to me that’s the best way to find out.”

“Isn’t she the bright child?” sniffed Laura, as Billie tore open the envelope and pulled out the letter inside.  Hastily she looked for the signature at the end, then gave a little excited exclamation.

“Girls,” she said, “it’s from Miss Beggs!” And she looked at them with wide eyes, forgetting for the moment that she had no more reason to fear a letter from the teacher.  Then she remembered, and a joyful smile dawned on her face.

“Girls, I’ve been sort of dreading this letter all summer,” she said, her eyes sparkling, “and now when it’s come I don’t mind a bit.  Isn’t it just wonderful?  I have money enough of my own to replace that horrid ‘Girl Reading a Book’ and two or three more like it.  Now,” she said, settling down with a satisfied little sigh, “if you’ll allow me, I’ll read my letter.”

The girls watched her as she read and were amazed to see her expression change from satisfaction to surprise and from surprise to something like chagrin.

“Well, if that isn’t the limit!” she cried, laying down the letter and regarding the girls disgustedly.  “Here I’ve been worrying myself—­and Chet—­sick all summer about that horrid old statue and now when I’ve got the money to pay for it, I find out that I probably wouldn’t have had to replace the old thing anyway.”