Over by the dressing-table Miss Jane was
carefully smoothing a refractory lock of hair into place. She looked so
calm, so self-contained, so--far away, thought Genevieve; if it had been
Aunt Julia, now!

Suddenly the girl gave a little skipping run and enveloped the lady in
two wide-flung young arms, thereby ruffling up more than ever the
carefully smoothed lock of hair.

"Miss, Jane, I--I've just got to hug you, anyway!"

"Why, Genevieve, my dear!" murmured Miss Jane, a little dazedly.

From the door Genevieve called back incoherently--the hug had been as
short in duration as it had been sudden in action:

"I don't think I can be late now, Miss Jane, ever--with that lovely
thing to keep time for me. And I wanted you to know--next year, when I
come back, I'm just sure I shall cook and sew beautifully, and do my
practising and everything, without once being told. And if I do sprain
my ankle I'll be a perfect angel--truly I will. And I won't ever keep
folks waiting, either, or--mercy! there's Nancy's first ring now, and
I'm not one bit ready!" she broke off, as the musical notes of a Chinese
gong sounded from the hall below. The next moment Miss Jane was alone
with her thoughts--and with the lock of hair that she was still trying
to smooth.

"Dear child!" smiled the lady. Then she turned abruptly and hastened
from the room, her hair still unsmoothed. "I'll just tell Nancy to be a
little slow about ringing that second gong," she murmured.

When Genevieve came down-stairs to supper that night, she brought with
her two books: one a small paper-covered one, the other a larger one
bound in dark red leather.

"Here's the latest 'Pathfinder'--only I call it 'Path_loser_,'" she
laughed, handing the smaller book to Miss Jane Chick; "and here
is--well, just see what is here," she finished impressively, spreading
open the leather-covered book before Mrs. Kennedy's eyes.

"'Chronicles of the Hexagon Club,'" read Mrs. Kennedy. "Oh, a journal!"
she smiled.

"Yes, Aunt Julia. Isn't it lovely?"

"Indeed it is! Who will keep it?"

"All of us. We are going to take turns. We shall write a day apiece--we
six Happy Hexagons of the Hexagon Club."

"Do the girls know about it?" asked Miss Jane.

"Not yet. I just thought of it yesterday when I saw the book in the
store. Father bought it for the club--of course _my_ money was gone long
ago--at such a time as _this_," she explained with laughing emphasis.
"I'm going to show the b