“Dee-spisable!” added Isabel, who had appeared from somewhere in time to hear Cathalina’s explanation. She curled down and put her head in Cathalina’s lap. “‘Sweet Cathalina, dear Cathalina, My love for thee shall never, never do-yi!’ Listen, girls, did you ever hear my adaptation of that sweet little ditty just out (interrogation point drawn by Isabel’s finger in the air), entitled ‘Evaline’?—I mean ‘My Cathaline’: “O, Cathaline (O, Cathaline), My Cathaline (My Cathaline), . . . . Sweeter to me than the honey to the bee, I love-a you, say you love-a me! Meet me in the shade of the old apple tree-ee, Kitty, Kathy Cothy, Cathali-ine!” “Silly,” said Cathalina, stroking Isabel’s curls. Lilian and Hilary leaped up the steep way that was always the shortest route to the Hall. The girls kept still till they had topped the bank, and then greeted them with the old, “What’s the matter with Hilary?—She’s all right! Who’s all right?—Hilary!” Making like inquiry into Lilian’s condition, they found her “all right”, too. As the friends were still sensitive about the recent misunderstanding, they only nodded and smiled and joined the circle. “Is this a final meeting of some sort?” asked Lilian. “Just a happen-so,” replied Eloise. “We really ought to have one more good old fudge or beach party, but nobody has time. I’ve begun packing. My, how do we get so much stuff? I don’t know what to do with it!” “I saw the old spring wagon come up a while ago with a load of empty boxes that I suppose some of the girls have ordered for their things.” “That makes me think,—I ordered one!” Isabel scrambled to her feet. “See you all tonight to say goodbye!” “We must go too, Diane,” said Helen, jumping up and pulling the lazy Diane, who complained that just when she got nicely settled Helen always wanted her to do something! “I’ve been packing all day, too, more or less,” and Diane made a pitiful face as she pretended to be dragged along by the lively Helen. “Yes, girls,” said Helen, looking back, “her packing has consisted in pulling everything out of the bureau drawers ‘onto’ the floor, and if we don’t get to work we shan’t be able to get to bed tonight without crushing some art treasure or other under foot! She has her hand-painted china in a pasteboard box under her bed and I’ve noticed that it’s awful rickety lately. You all can’t imagine the time I have. Talk about ‘Northern enterprise’!” All this in Helen’s pretty drawl with the r’s omitted in Southern fashion. “Come on, Eloise, and help!” “All right,” and pretty Eloise hopped up too. At last, only Cathalina, Hilary, Betty and Lilian were left. The afternoon sun cast long shadows among the trees. Somewhere down in the ravine a wood thrush was singing his flute-like song. The girls listened and were silent. The waves softly foamed about the rocks afar off, and the little Greycliff was coming home with some last party of girls.