e it will be the last one we'll have," sighed Cecily. "We can't
carry it on after you all go, and it has been such fun."

"Bev will be a real newspaper editor some day," declared the Story Girl,
on whom the spirit of prophecy suddenly descended that night.

She was swinging on the bough of an apple tree, with a crimson shawl
wrapped about her head, and her eyes were bright with roguish fire.

"How do you know he will?" asked Felicity.

"Oh, I can tell futures," answered the Story Girl mysteriously. "I know
what's going to happen to all of you. Shall I tell you?"

"Do, just for the fun of it," I said. "Then some day we'll know just how
near you came to guessing right. Go on. What else about me?"

"You'll write books, too, and travel all over the world," continued the
Story Girl. "Felix will be fat to the end of his life, and he will be a
grandfather before he is fifty, and he will wear a long black beard."

"I won't," cried Felix disgustedly. "I hate whiskers. Maybe I can't help
the grandfather part, but I CAN help having a beard."

"You can't. It's written in the stars."

"'Tain't. The stars can't prevent me from shaving."

"Won't Grandpa Felix sound awful funny?" reflected Felicity.

"Peter will be a minister," went on the Story Girl.

"Well, I might be something worse," remarked Peter, in a not ungratified
tone.

"Dan will be a farmer and will marry a girl whose name begins with K and
he will have eleven children. And he'll vote Grit."

"I won't," cried scandalized Dan. "You don't know a thing about
it. Catch ME ever voting Grit! As for the rest of it--I don't care.
Farming's well enough, though I'd rather be a sailor."

"Don't talk such nonsense," protested Felicity sharply. "What on earth
do you want to be a sailor for and be drowned?"

"All sailors aren't drowned," said Dan.

"Most of them are. Look at Uncle Stephen."

"You ain't sure he was drowned."

"Well, he disappeared, and that is worse."

"How do you know? Disappearing might be real easy."

"It's not very easy for your family."

"Hush, let's hear the rest of the predictions," said Cecily.

"Felicity," resumed the Story Girl gravely, "will marry a minister."

Sara Ray giggled and Felicity blushed. Peter tried hard not to look too
self-consciously delighted.

"She will be a perfect housekeeper and will teach a Sunday School class
and be very happy all her life."

"Will her husband be happy?" queried Dan solemnly.

"I guess he'll