and "splendid." She wondered if
he would come up with Swen Brodie; most of all she wondered when she
would see him again.

In all likelihood Miss Gloria, healthy, tired young animal, would have
slept until noon next day had she been left to her own devices. But at
nine o'clock her mother came up with a breakfast-tray. Gloria regarded
it sleepily.

"I would have let you sleep, my dear," said Mrs. Gaynor, "but there are
your guests, you know----"

"Hang my guests," was Gloria's morning greeting. "Just because I invited
them up here do I have to give up every shred of my independence?" She
was lying in identically the same position in which she had dropped off
to sleep the night before; now she turned and emitted a sudden "Ouch!"
Not only was she stiff from head to foot; her whole body ached as though
it were nothing but bruises.

So began Gloria's day after her picnicking with Mark King. And in very
much the same way her day continued. Long before the sun set she had
quarrelled with Georgia, turned up her nose at Teddy, laughed derisively
at poor Archie's dog-like devotion, and considerably perplexed and
worried Mr. Gratton, who was astute enough to keep tactfully in the
background, hurt her mother's feelings, and alarmed her father by a wild
and for the instant perfectly heartfelt determination to go and be a
"movie" actress. There was no dancing that night. Gloria, when they
thought her upstairs, sat alone out in the gloaming, a wistful, drooping
little girl surrendering sweepingly to youthful melancholia. She didn't
know just what the matter was; she didn't seek for reasons and
explanations; she merely stared at the far-off stars which swam in a
blue blur, and felt miserable.

But morning came again, as bright as that first day in Eden; the birds
sang and the air was crisp, and young blood ran pleasantly. She came
down early, all radiant smiles; she kissed her mother on both cheeks and
the lips, rumpled her father's hair affectionately, went for a stroll
with Mr. Gratton before breakfast, craved Georgia's pardon abjectly, and
made the world an abiding-place of joy for the college boys.

Gloria was mildly surprised that Gratton did not appear in the least to
resent her day of adventuring with King. He was interested; he did shake
his head with one of his suave smiles and murmur "Lucky dog!" when King
was referred to. But his interest seemed to be chiefly in "that quaint
little relic of past, turbulent days, Colo