soda water, and Bertha for a
sandwich at the lunch counter. She said she just couldn't eat a thing
before she left home. Alma Lane has gone to a drug store across the
street. I don't know where father and Harold are. They went off
together, and--oh, here they are!" she broke off in relief, as the two
wanderers appeared.

"And now," summoned Mr. Hartley, "we'll be off to our car! Why, where
are the rest of us?"

"Well, they--they aren't all here," frowned Genevieve, a little
anxiously.

As at Sunbridge, it was a rush and a scramble at the last. Tilly, Elsie,
and Bertha came back, but Genevieve went to look for Alma Lane; and when
Alma returned without having seen Genevieve, Harold had to run
post-haste for her.

"Sure, dearie," said Mr. Hartley to his daughter, laughingly, when at
last he had his charges all in the car, "this is a little worse than
trying to corral a bunch of bronchos!"

"Oh, but we won't be so bad again," promised the girl, waving her hand
to Harold, who stood alone outside the window, watching them a little
wistfully.

They had a merry time getting settled, and more than one tired
countenance in the car brightened at sight of the six eager young faces.

"I couldn't get all five sections together," frowned Mr. Hartley. "I got
three here, but the other two are down near the end of the car--you know
the porter showed you. Do you think we can make them go, some way?" he
questioned Mrs. Kennedy, anxiously. "I planned for you to have one of
the sections down there by yourself, perhaps, with two of the young
ladies in the other. Will that do?"

"Of course it will--and finely, too," declared the lady. "Genevieve, you
and I will go down there and take one of the girls with us--perhaps
Bertha. That will leave your father for one up here, Elsie and Alma for
another, and Tilly and Cordelia for the third."

"I knew she'd put you with Cordelia," chuckled Bertha to Tilly, under
cover of their scramble to pick out their suit-cases from the pile in
which the porter had left them. "And I'm sure you ought to be," she
laughed. "There'll be some hopes then that you'll be kept in order!"

"Just look to yourself," retorted Tilly, serenely. "Mrs. Kennedy put
_you_ down there near _her_--remember that!"

"I declare, I felt just like an orange," giggled Elsie, "with all that
talk about 'sections.'"

"I don't see where the shelves are," whispered Cordelia, craning her
short little neck to its full extent.

"Yo