I wish I could think of
a good rhyme for her new name. I would pass it around--"

"Now, Tavia, you must not keep me worrying about the mischievous things
you intend to do at Glenwood. Remember that is one of the
stipulations--you are to be very, very good."

"I feel a sore spot under my shoulder blade now," declared Tavia,
putting her hand back. "Wings as sure as you live, just feel!"

"But do you realize it, we have only this week? We must be in Glenwood
next Monday."

"All the better. I cannot wait. Won't it be too gloriotious?" and
Tavia again indulged in "steps," her favorite outlet for pent-up
sentiment.

"The boys are coming over to-morrow afternoon," announced Dorothy, "I
had a note from Ned this morning."

"Goody," exclaimed Tavia, coming to a full stop with a twirl that stood
for the pedal period. "Another ride?"

"No, I'm afraid not. Ned said he and Nat were going to spend the
afternoon with us."

"Well, it will be fun anyway. It always is when the boys get jollying.
I am afraid I do love boys--next to you, Doro, I think a real nice boy
is the very nicest human possible."

"Next to me? On the other side you mean?"

"No, on the second side, the boy is on the outside of the argument.
You are always first, Doro."

Meanwhile the news, that Dorothy and Tavia were to leave Dalton for a
school in New England, had spread among their former school companions.
Alice MacAllister, Sarah Ford, May Egner and a number of others had
held a little consultation over the matter and decided that some sort
of testimonial should be arranged to give their friends a parting
acknowledgment of the regard and esteem in which Dalton school girls
held Tavia Travers and Dorothy Dale. Of course Tavia was never as
popular as Dorothy had always been--she was too antagonistic, and
insisted upon having too much fun at the expense of others. But, now
that she was leaving them, the girls admitted she had been a "jolly
good fellow," and they would surely miss her mischief if nothing more.

May Egner wanted the committee of arrangements to make the affair a
"Linen Shower" such as brides are given.

"Because," argued the practical May, "it will be so nice to have a
lovely lot of handkerchiefs and collars. No one can have too many."

"Well, we can include the shower if you like," said Alice, who was
chairman, "but I vote for a lawn party, with boys invited."

"A lawn party with boys!" chorused the majority, in enthusia