until I joined the S. B's, then, to decide whether you would accept Heavy's invitation, or not?"
"Of course not!"
"How ridiculous!" cried Heavy.
"Well, it's to be a Sweetbriar frolic; isn't it, Heavy?" asked Helen, calmly.
"No. Madge and Bob Steele are going. And your brother Tom," chuckled the stout girl. "And perhaps that Isadore Phelps. You wouldn't call Busy Izzy a Sweetbriar; would you?"
"I don't mean the boys," returned Helen, with some coolness.
Suddenly Mercy Curtis, her head on one side and her thin little face twisted into a most knowing grimace, interrupted. "I know what this means!" she exclaimed.
"What do you mean, Goody Two-Sticks?' demanded Ruth, kindly.
"Our Helen has a grouch."
"Nonsense!" muttered Helen, flushing again.
"I thought something didn't fit her when she came in," said Heavy, calmly. "But I thought it was indigestion."
"What is the matter, Helen?" asked Ruth Fielding in wonder.
"'Fee, fi, fo fum! I see the negro run!'—into the woodpile!" ejaculated the lame girl, in her biting way. "I know what is the matter with
