ians, who were already putting away their
music. "It must be pretty hard for them," she added, as Jack started to
pilot her toward the door. "They have to do all the work while we have
the fun."

"Yes, but they have the fun of getting paid for it," Jack suggested,
practically.

Lucile laughed. "I never thought of it in that light before," she said,
and then added, with a sigh, "Well, I suppose it's all over now."

"Sorry?" whispered Jack.

"Of course; aren't you?" she countered, with a quick upward glance, that
fell before his steady gaze.

Jack answered softly, as several of the girls and boys approached "More
sorry than I can make you understand--now."

Lucile thrilled with a new, strange emotion that she could not analyze;
she only knew it was absurdly hard to look at Jack, and that she was
immensely relieved when Evelyn greeted her with a merry, "Don't you wish
it were beginning all over again, Lucy? I don't feel a bit like going
home."

"That seems to be the general cry," broke in Marjorie. "And to think that
you girls are going away to-morrow!" she added. "You'll be tired out
after to-night."

"Oh, we're not going till late in the afternoon, so we can sleep all we
want to in the morning. All the packing is done," said Jessie,
reassuringly.

"But who speaks of sleep?" broke in Lucile, gaily. "I never felt so far
from it in all my life."

"No, but you'll feel mighty near it about two o'clock to-morrow
afternoon, if I'm any judge," Phil prophesied, grimly.

"Well, everybody knows you're not," said Lucile, running lightly up the
stairs and stopping to make a laughing face at her brother over the
banister. "Come on, girls," she cried. "Everybody's going and we haven't
even started yet."

The girls followed her, laughing merrily, and Phil grinned at the
fellows. "You can't get the best of Lucy," he said.

An hour later Lucile put out the light and crept into bed with a sigh.
"Such a wonderful time," she breathed, "and he _is_ good looking.
Jack----" Then she smiled whimsically into the dark. "It must run in the
name," she said.

CHAPTER IX

HURRAH, FOR EUROPE!

Lucile opened one sleepy eye upon the busily ticking little clock on the
table. As she looked, her gaze became fixed and she sat up in bed with a
startled exclamation.

"Eleven o'clock!" she cried. "Oh, it can't be!" she added, with sudden
inspiration, which was clouded with disappointment the next minute as the
steady ticking con