suspiciously like a sob in her voice, "an' I haven't got only just one
consolation left an' that's--" again she paused.

Janice carried the tray away and the next minute they all burst in bearing
their parting gifts in their arms.

The gifts were an indiscriminate collection of flowers, candy, magazines,
books, etc.

Aunt Mary opened her closet door and showed the four dressing-cases.
Everyone but Jack was mightily surprised and everyone was mightily
pleased. The room looked like Christmas, and the faces, too.

"I shall die with my head on the hair brush," Clover declared, and
Mitchell went down on his knees and kissed Aunt Mary's hand.

"You must all come an' see me if you ever go anywhere near," said the old
lady. "Now promise."

"We promise," they yelled in unison, and then they asked in beautiful
rhythm "What's the matter with Aunt Mary?" and yelled the answer "She's
all right!" with a fervor that nearly blew out the window.

"I declare," Aunt Mary exclaimed, as the echoes settled back among the
furniture, "when I think of Lucinda seems as if--" she paused; further
speech was for the nonce impossible.

"The carriages are ready," Janice announced at the door, and from then
until they reached the train all was confusion and bustle.

Only the train whistle could drown the farewells which they poured into
her ear-trumpet, and when they could hover in her drawing-room no longer
they stood outside the window as long as the window was there to stand
outside of. And then they watched it until it was out of sight, and after
that turned solemnly away.

"By grab!" said Burnett, "I think she ought to leave us all fortunes. I
never was so completely done up in my life."

"My throat's blistered," said Clover feebly; "I'm going to stand on my
head and gargle with salve until my throat's healed."

"I shall never shine on the team again," said Mitchell. "I shall hire out
for bleacher work. He who has successfully conversed with Aunt Mary need
not fear to attack a Wagner Opera single-handed."

Jack did not say anything. His heart was athirst for Mrs. Rosscott.

She was back in her own library the next night, and he rushed thither as
soon as his first day's labor was over. She was prettier and her eyes were
sweeter and brighter than ever as she rose to meet him and held out--first
one hand, and then both. He took the one hand and then the two and the
longing that possessed him was so overwhelming that only his acute