exciting things about the proud class of
girls and boys who were, in a few days, to pass forever from the school
life--graduates.

Uncle Johnny watched his girls join others and troop away, with light
step, heads high. He chuckled, though behind it was a little sigh.

"Doc, my boy, you were right--it _has_ made me ten years younger to mix
up with these youngsters."

As he turned to go into the building he met Barbara Lee coming out. He
suddenly remembered that the business of the Award had to do with
Barbara Lee--somehow, he almost always had, nowadays, to consult her
about something! Very sweetly she went back with him to her office. He
told her what the girls had told him. She listened with triumph in her
face.

"I _knew_ Jerry Travis did not do that. But, oh, aren't they funny?"
However, her tone said that these "funny" girls were very dear to her.
"It will take something very real out of my life when I leave Lincoln."

"What do you mean?" John Westley's voice rang abruptly.

"Of course--you haven't heard. I have had a wonderful offer from a big
export house in San Francisco. It's the same firm to which I expected to
go last summer--before I came here. You see the road I chose to climb to
the stars wasn't entirely along--physical training. My last year in
college I specialized in export work. There was a fascination in it to
me--it's such a _growing_ thing, such a challenging work, and it carries
one into new and untried fields. There's an element of adventure in
it----" her eyes glistened. "I shall spend a year at the main office,
then they're going to send me into China--because I can speak the
Chinese language."

John Westley stared at her--she seemed like such a slip of a girl.

"And mother is so much better now that there is no reason why I cannot
go."

Though they had yet to straighten out the matter of the Award she quite
involuntarily held out her hand as she spoke, and John Westley took it
in both of his.

"I hope this--_is_ the road to the stars." That did not sound properly
congratulatory, so he added, lamely: "I'm glad--if you want to go. But
what will we do without you here?"

CHAPTER XXVI

COMMENCEMENT

"Commencements----" declared Gyp, wise with her fifteen years, "are like
weddings--all sort of weepy."

"What do _you_ know of weddings, little one?" from Graham.

"I guess I've been to five, Graham Westley! And some one is always
crying at them. Why, when Cousin Alicia Stowe