“Why, that’s not till October!” said Clover

“I know it; but it’s nice to be beforehand.  Will you?”

“Of course I will; provided that Katy has somebody pleasant to go with,” replied Clover, immensely flattered at being asked by the popular Rose.  Then they ran downstairs, and took their places in the long procession of girls, who were ranged two and two, ready to start.  Miss Jane walked at the head; and Miss Marsh, another teacher, brought up the rear.  Rose Red whispered that it was like a funeral and a caravan mixed,—­“as cheerful as hearses at both ends, and wild beasts in the middle.”

The walk was along a wooded road; a mile out and a mile back.  The procession was not permitted to stop or straggle, or take any of the liberties which make walking pleasant.  Still, Katy and Clover enjoyed it.  There was a spring smell in the air, and the woods were beginning to be pretty.  They even found a little trailing aribitus blossoming in a sunny hollow.  Lilly was just in front of them, and amused them with histories of different girls, whom she pointed out in the long line.  That was Esther Dearborn,—­Rose Red’s friend.  Handsome, wasn’t she? but awfully sarcastic.  The two next were Amy Alsop and Ellen Gray.  They always walked together, because they were so intimate.  Yes; they were nice enough, only so distressingly good.  Amy did not get one single mark last term!  That child with pig-tails was Bella Arkwright.  Why on earth did Katy want to know her?  She was a nasty little thing.

“She’s just about Elsie’s height,” replied Katy.  “Who’s that pretty girl with pink velvet on her hat?”

“Dear me!  Do you think she’s pretty?  I don’t.  Her name is Louisa Agnew.  She lives at Ashburn,—­quite near us; but we don’t know them.  Her family are not at all in good society.”

“What a pity!  She looks sweet and lady-like.”

Lilly tossed her head.  “They’re quite common people,” she said.  “They live in a little mite of a house, and her father paints portraits.”

“But I should think that would be nice.  Doesn’t she ever take you to see his pictures?”

“Take me!” cried Lilly, indignantly.  “I should think not.  I tell you we don’t visit.  I just speak when we’re here, but I never see her when I’m at home.”

“Move on, young ladies.  What are you stopping for?” cried Miss Jane.

“Yes; move on,” muttered Rose Red, from behind.  “Don’t you hear Policeman X?”

From walking-hour till tea-time was “recreation” again.  Lilly improved this opportunity to call at No. 6.  She had waited to see how the girls were likely to take in the school before committing herself to intimacy; but, now that Rose Red had declared in their favor, she was ready to begin to be friendly.

“How lovely!” she said, looking about.  “You got the end room, after all, didn’t you?  What splendid times you’ll have!  Oh, how plainly you can see Berry Searles’s window!  Has he spoken to you yet?”