at once expressed a laconic preference for the hill houses, whereat Carpenter stood up as readily for the town.
"There's no end of rivalry between the two," he explained, as they trotted down into the valley, pressed for time. "I wouldn't be in a hill house for any money, or in any house but ours if I had my choice of all the lot."
"And I wouldn't be here at all," retorted Jan, depriving his companion of what breath he had as they hurried up the hill towards the town. By turning to the left, however, in the wake of other new boys in a like hurry, they found themselves approaching the chapel and the great schoolroom by a shorter route. It led through a large square quad with study doors opening upon it down two sides, and nothing over these studies but their own roof.
"There's plenty of time," said Jan, with rather a furtive look at a little gold lady's watch that he pulled out in his fist. "I wonder if this is the Lodge?"
"No—it's the next—opposite the chapel. This is the School House. Do come on!"
The School House and the Lodge were like none of the other houses. Instead of standing by themselves in the town or on the hill, each formed a part of the distinctive group of which the chapel and the great schoolroom were the salient features. Their quadrangles not only adjoined, but there was no line of demarcation to show where one began or the other ended. In both the study doors opened straight into the fresh air; but in neither was a boy to be seen as Carpenter and Rutter caught up the flying remnant of the forty-two.
"Let's go back by the Lodge," said Jan, when at last they were let out for good. But now the scene was changing. Groups of two and three were dotted about in animated conversation, some still in their journey hats,
