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      Marjorie sniffed. “Of course, we know you wouldn’t,” she said.

      “I wouldn’t,” said Evelyn, unabashed. “I’d be too awfully excited all the time.”

      “Oh, Evelyn, Evelyn!” said Lucile, laughing. “Won’t you ever learn to cover up your faults?”

      “I’ll have to get some first,” she retorted, impishly; and the girls, who were in a mood when everything strikes them funny, began to laugh. The more they laughed, the more they tried to stop, the more impossible it became, until the whole house rang with merriment. Lucile was the first to recover herself.

      “That’s quite enough for some time to come, Evelyn,” she cried, choking back her laughter. “We all know you are wonderful, but please remember that no human being is perfect.”

      Gradually they quieted down, with only an occasional explosion, and Lucile returned to her guardian again.

      “I suppose you have gone to all the theaters and restaurants and things in the city,” she asked. “Are they just as wonderful as people make them out to be?” 47

      “More,” said Mrs. Wescott, emphatically, dimpling happily at her memories. Indeed, she was very young and very enthusiastic, and the girls, looking at her, thought they had never seen her so entrancingly lovely.

      “It is almost impossible to describe,” she went on. “At first you have only a confused impression that the world is on fire with electric lights. To ride through the crowded theater district at night, with the great electric signs blinking at you from all sides—with the honking of the motor horns making a very Babel—with the crowds on the sidewalk, still hurrying, but for such a different reason—men and women in evening dress, all bound for one or other of the gay restaurants or theaters close by. And then the theater itself! To walk from the street to the gaily lighted lobby, its walls paneled from floor to ceiling with great mirrors that reflect lovely women and distinguished men. Then in the theater where the rich carpet deadens every footfall and you feel rather than hear the murmur of many voices speaking softly—the subtle rustle of a crowded place—the lights—the music—oh, girls, it was wonderful, wonderful! I can’t describe it!”

      “Oh, but you have described it—beautifully!” cried Lucile. “I feel as if I had been there!”

      “Oh, just to go there once!” breathed Jessie, rapturously. “If I could only see those things once, I think I’d be willing to die!”

      The girls raised laughing protests, and Lucile cried, “For goodness’ sake, don’t speak of dying yet awhile, Jessie. I’m going to see lots before my end comes. Oh, if we could only go back with you, Miss How—I mean Mrs. Wescott,” she stammered, blushing furiously at her mistake.

      The lovely guardian of the fire looked down upon Lucile, a quizzical smile curling the corners of her mouth.

      “I don’t wonder you make that mistake once in a while,” she said. “It took me a long while to get used to it.”

      “I should think it would seem strange just at first,” ventured Margaret, amazed at her own temerity and looking 48 up at her guardian shyly. “I mean not being Miss Howland any longer.”

      The girls laughed and Margaret flushed confusedly.

      “You shouldn’t say such things, Margaret; it ill befits your age,” said Jessie patronizingly.

      There followed another burst of laughter, out of which Margaret’s voice rose defiantly. “I don’t care,” she cried. “It seemed mighty funny to me to call our guardian Mrs. Wescott, and if it seemed strange to me, what must it have seemed to her? I was almost afraid——” her voice trailed off into silence, and Mrs. Wescott prompted, gently, “Afraid of what, dear?”

      “Oh, just afraid that you might be—different.”

      It was the vague, half-formed fear that all the girls had felt, yet none had dared express, and the silence that followed was pregnant with meaning.

      “Different, Margaret?” their guardian’s voice was low and tremulous. “Never! Happier, oh, so very much happier, girls; but never changed in my love for you except as it grows stronger. Do I seem different?” she asked, turning swimming eyes upon them.

      “Oh, no—except that you are twice as dear,” cried Lucile, and the cry found an echo in each girl’s heart.

      “I’m so happy I’m afraid I’m going to have hysterics or something,” cried Jessie, dabbing her eyes with a square inch or so of handkerchief. “I want to laugh and cry, and you can’t do both at once.”

      The girls laughed shakily and Mrs. Wescott said, with a gay little laugh, “Here, this will never do. Now that that question is settled forever and ever, I want to hear what you girls have been doing all this time, and what you expect to do this summer. Come, who’s first?”

      “Lucile,” cried Dorothy. “You just ask her what she intends to do this summer. All our plans are tame beside hers.”

      The girls had completely forgotten the wonderful topic that had seemed all absorbing before this guardian’s arrival, 49 but now it took on an added importance, and the girls waited eagerly for Lucile’s disclosure.

      “What great plans have you been making now, Lucile?” said Mrs. Wescott, with that ever-ready interest that had won the girls completely. “I can see there is something great in the wind. Tell me about it.”

      “I’d never have thought of it if Dorothy hadn’t reminded me,” said Lucile, amazed that it should have slipped her mind for two minutes, let alone two hours. “Why, it’s only that Mother and Dad are going to Europe this summer and they have decided to take Phil and me along with them; and then Dad said I might ask Jessie and Evelyn to go with us if they’d like to, and so they are coming—to make trouble,” she added, slyly.

      “Oh, no doubt of that last,” said Mrs. Wescott, laughing, and then added, with enthusiasm, “It certainly is splendid for you to have the chance. I know your pet hobby has always been to visit Switzerland, Lucy, and now you will, provided you get that far. Do you suppose you will?”

      “I really don’t know,” said Lucile. “I’ve been too stunned by the mere fact of going to Europe to think of asking for details. If I have anything to say about it, we’ll go to Switzerland, if we don’t go anywhere else.”

      “Just hear her talk of Switzerland, as if it were just around the corner,” marveled Ruth. “It has always seemed to me like some myth or fable.”

      “And you feel as it you ought to speak of it in whispers,” agreed Marjorie. “That’s the way I feel about it.”

      “Oh, I almost forgot about tea,” Lucile interrupted, springing to her feet and making a dash for the door. “It’s getting late, and everybody must be starved. Come on, Jessie, and help me, for goodness’ sake!”

      “Coming,” said Jessie, stopping at the door to make a low bow and declaim, “Ladies and gentlemen, we crave your indulgence——”

      “You’d better come out here, or I’ll use force,” cried Lucile’s voice from somewhere in the rear, and the orator fled precipitately.

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