nized positions, but middle girls rarely
receive as much attention. Dona, indeed, had claimed a certain share of
petting, but Marjorie considered herself badly treated by the Fates.

"I wish I were the only one!" she assured the others. "Think how I'd be
appreciated then!"

"We'll swop you with pleasure, madam, if you wish," returned Larry
ironically. "I should suggest an advertisement such as this: 'Wanted
situation as only daughter in eligible family, eight brothers and
sisters given in exchange. A month's approval.' No! Better not put that
in, or they'd send you packing back at the end of the first week."

"Brothers are beasts!" pouted Marjorie, throwing a cushion at Larry to
express her indignation. "What I'd like would be for Mother to take me
away for a year, or let me study Art, or Music, or something, just with
her. Mamie Page's mother went with her to Paris, and they'd a gorgeous
time. That's my ambition."

"And mine's just to be allowed to stop at home," added Dona plaintively.

Neither Marjorie's nor Dona's wishes, however, were considered at
head-quarters. The powers that be had decided that they were to be
educated at Brackenfield College, their boxes were ready packed, and
their train was to leave at nine o'clock by railway time. Mother saw
them off at the station.

"I wish I could have taken you," she said rather anxiously. "But I think
you'll manage the journey all right. You're both together, and
Marjorie's a big girl now, and used to travelling. You've only to cross
the platform at Rosebury to get the London train, and a teacher is to
meet you at Euston. You'll know her by the Brackenfield badge, and be
sure you don't speak to anyone else. Call out of the window for a porter
when you reach Rosebury. You've plenty of time to change. Well,
good-bye, chicks! Be good girls. Don't forget to send me that telegram
from Euston. Write as soon as you can. Don't lean against the door of
the carriage. You're just off now! Good-bye! Good-bye!"

As the train steamed out of the station, Dona sank into her place with
the air of a martyr starting for the stake, and mopped her eyes with her
already damp pocket-handkerchief. Marjorie, case-hardened after many
similar partings, settled herself in the next seat, and, pulling out an
illustrated paper from her bag, began to read. The train was very full,
and the girls had with difficulty found room. Soldiers on leave were
returning to the front, and filled the corrido