go on deck."

"But we haven't seen Phil's room yet." Lucile began, when that young
gentleman, interrupted with a superior, "Don't let that worry you. I
wouldn't have a lot of girls making a fuss over my quarters."

"We probably wouldn't anyway," said Jessie, and passed out with her nose
in the air.

"I've heard that lemons and salt herring are good for seasickness," Jack
teased, as they stepped on deck.

"Oh, don't!" Lucile pleaded, puckering her mouth at the thought of the
lemon. "There is only one comfort," she added, triumphantly, "and that
is, if I am seasick, you won't be here to know it."

"That's cruel," he laughed back; then added, quickly, "But you are going
to write to me, any way, and tell me all about your experiences, aren't
you?"

"I don't--know," she answered, doubtfully. "You see, even if Mother were
willing, I wouldn't stay in one place very long--and----"

They were standing near the rail, Jack bending toward her very earnestly
and she, gazing out over the crowded wharf, a little confused and very
uncertain what to do; and yet, in her girl's heart, she knew what she
_wanted_ to do!

"If you don't want to get left, Turnbull, you'd better hustle," sang out
Phil. "Everybody's off that's going."

Jack leaned forward and took Lucile's hand. "Please," he urged. "Just a
little short letter--anything, as long as you write. Won't you please?"

Then Lucile's last little barrier gave way and, with a quick,
half-whispered "All right," she ran to join her father and mother, who
had caught the little inter-change and had regarded each other with
troubled eyes. "Perhaps it's just as well we are going to Europe," Mrs.
Payton had said, and Mr. Payton had nodded an unusually grave consent.

Jessie and Evelyn were engrossed in taking leave of their folks, who were
half laughing, half crying at the thought of parting with them for so
long.

Again the warning cry, "All ashore that are going ashore!" and, with a
last hug and kiss and cry of "Take care of yourselves and be good," the
ladies, assisted by their impatient escorts, hurried down the gangplank
and were instantly lost to sight among the jostling mob down below.

"Phil, run and get the spy-glasses--quick!" directed Mrs. Payton. "They
are in the grip in my stateroom. Here's the key--hurry!"

So Phil raced off as directed and the rest were pushed up against the
rail by the crowd that pressed four deep behind them, all striving
eagerly for a last sigh