Margaret was wild with fear after this, and kept the old farmhouse locked night and day. Philip was never out of her sight. But as months and finally years went by and she heard nothing more, it seemed that Richard De Jarnette must have given up the search. When Philip was nearly three her vigilance relaxed enough to permit her to go to California for the winter with Mrs. Pennybacker, Bess being still at "Synodical." For this trip Margaret had insisted upon dressing Philip in girl's attire. It was done half in jest, but it succeeded admirably, for a child of three is too young to object to such a metamorphosis, and it gave Margaret great comfort. She felt sure that Mrs. De Jarnette and son would never be recognized under the hotel alias of "Mrs. Osborne and daughter." So successful had this trip been that Mrs. Pennybacker urged her going to the World's Fair the next summer. But there was too much risk there, Margaret decided, where all the world might be found. And now, this summer, some four years since her midnight flight from home, Judge Kirtley had written her that Mr. De Jarnette's counsel had told him privately he was sure that Mr. De Jarnette had abandoned all hope of ever finding his ward, and had given up the search. She grew so jubilant and buoyant in spirits after this that the natural instincts of a young woman asserted themselves, and when Mrs. Pennybacker proposed a summer at Mackinac, she made no opposition. It is hardly natural for a city-bred girl to enjoy for its own sake isolation on a quiet farm. She and Bess took up the work of planning for Mackinac with great zest. But there was one thing--if they went, Philip must go as a girl. That had given her such a sense of security on the California trip. Mrs. Pennybacker disapproved strongly. "I tell you it isn't safe. It may get you into no end of trouble." "I shall not go unless we can go that way," Margaret finally announced, and that settled it. Philip was told that his going depended upon his keeping the secret, and, of course, promised implicit obedience. But Philip did not then know the obloquy which attached to being a girl, nor the depth of humiliation into which it would plunge him. His long curls which had never been cut off, and his nickname, "Trottie,"--fortunately a sexless one,--aided greatly in the success of the scheme. Margaret generally called him "dearest" anyway, and Mrs. Pennybacker "baby," which he resented.