it is to have company, but I shall just
take care of myself. Only get me a room at Rachel's little house around
the corner, and I won't be a bit of trouble to anybody."

"Consider the touching modesty of that now!" exclaimed Katherine. "As if
we weren't all pining for a sight of her. And can't you just taste the
spread she'll bring?"

"We must make her have it the very night she gets here," said Betty
practically. "There's a lot going on next week, and as soon as people
find out that she's here they'll just pounce on her for all sorts of
things."

"I hereby pounce upon her for our house dance," announced Babbie
Hildreth hastily. "Isn't it jolly that it comes this week? I had a
presentiment that I'd better save one of my invitations."

"You needn't have bothered," said Babe enviously. "I guess there'll
always be room for Mary Brooks at a Westcott House dance--as long as
19-- stays anyway."

"Don't quarrel, children," Madeline intervened. "Your dance is on
Wednesday. Is there anything for Tuesday?"

"A psychology lecture," returned Helen Adams promptly.

"Cut it out," laughed Katherine. "Mary isn't coming up here to go to
psychology lectures."

"But she does want to go to it," declared Roberta, suddenly waking up to
the subject in hand. "I thought it was queer myself, but she speaks
about it particularly in her letter. Let me see--oh, here it is, in the
postscript. It's by a friend of Dr. Hinsdale, she says; and somebody
must have written her about it and offered her a ticket, because she
says she's already invited and so for us not to bother. Did you write
her, Helen?"

"No," said Helen, "I didn't. The lecture wasn't announced until
yesterday. There was a special meeting of the Philosophical Club to
arrange about it."

"It's queer," mused Katherine. "Mary was always rather keen on
psychology----"

"On the psychology of Dr. Hinsdale you mean," amended Madeline
flippantly. "But that doesn't explain her inside information about this
lecture. We'll ask her how she knew--that's the quickest way to find
out. Now let's go on with our schedule. What's Thursday?"

"The French Club play," explained Roberta. "I think she'd like that,
don't you?"

Madeline nodded. "Easily. It's going to be awfully clever this time.
Then that leaves only Friday. Let's drive out to Smuggler's Notch in the
afternoon and have supper at Mrs. Noble's."

"Oh, yes," agreed Betty. "That will make such a perfectly lovely end-up
to the wee