unch with
mother and then catch the train to Delphi. I have an errand for the Dean
out at the University."

"You know," said Kit, "we lived right on the edge of Long Island Sound
before we moved up to Connecticut, and ever since I was in rompers, I can
remember going away somewhere to the seashore every summer, but I think
your lake is ever so much more interesting than the ocean. Somehow it
seems to belong to one more. I always felt with the ocean as if it just
condescended to come over to my special beach, after it had rambled all
over the world, and belonged to everybody."

"But you have all the shells and the seaweed, and we haven't," demurred
Anne. "Before I ever went East, we had a couple of clam shells, just
plain every-day old round clam shells, that had come from Cape May, and I
used to think they were perfectly wonderful because they had belonged in
the real ocean."

After the rugged landscape of New England, Kit found this level land very
attractive. They passed through one suburb after another, with the
beautiful Drive following the curving shore line out to Evanston. Here she
caught her first glimpse of the Northwestern University, its terra-cotta
hued buildings showing picturesquely through the beautiful giant willows
around the campus.

They left Rex at the main entrance and drove on to where Mrs. Bellamy was
stopping. The houses made Kit think of those back at the Cove, with their
spacious lawns and large restful homes of plenty. Mrs. Bellamy was filled
with amusement when she heard the story of Kit's substitution of herself
for the boy the Dean had asked for. She was a tall, slender woman with
ashen gold hair and gray eyes, who seemed almost like an elder sister of
Anne's. They occupied a suite of rooms near the campus.

"It is ever so much pleasanter than living in the heart of the city," she
said, "and Rex has so many friends among the boys out here that it makes
it pleasant for both of the children. We used to live in North Evanston
before Mr. Bellamy took the chair of modern history up at Delphi. I wish
that you were going to live here for Anne's sake."

"Well, that's almost selfish, mother, because Delphi is a hundred times
more fun than Evanston," Anne declared, "and we're sure to see a lot of
each other, anyway, when school opens. Kit's promised to tell me all about
her sisters and Greenacres. It must be awfully queer to live up in the
hills like that."

"Queer?" repeated Kit, laughingly.