“I am so glad,” Aunt Mary murmured. “Now I shall have a chance to see Jane’s most intimate companion, and it will afford me such an opportunity of studying the dear girls, and thus being better able to understand them. I have always wished that Jane might have had some playmate of her own kind, and she is so very fond of Judith, I shall be delighted to know her also.” It seemed to the busy little woman that Jane and her father were scarcely gone when a shrill blast of the trumpet announced their return. With a flourish the coaching party drew up to the porch. The delight of the girls was so evident Mr. Allen and his sister hurried through the formalities of welcome to leave the chums alone together. “Now, we will just leave you all to yourselves,” he concluded, when Aunt Mary had directed the man to carry in the bags, and ordered the maid to announce dinner in twenty minutes, that length of time being demanded by Jane as necessary for Judith’s freshening up. Arms twined around shoulders, eyes reflecting each other’s very thoughts, chatting and laughing over happenings absolutely foreign to those outside the charmed circle of college interests, the chums entered upon their period of pre-school and post-vacation days. “And to think I might have missed all this if I had not thought of you and the copper mines,” Judith was saying as Jane fastened the snaps on her light silk “freshen up” gown. “You know, Janie, I am just as forgetful as ever, only I have a new system: I don’t forget the things I love best.” “I will agree you may indulge that habit to the limit, Judy, if you stick to your professed plan. Then I know I shall never get in the jumble of mixups with things you don’t love,” Jane affectionately assured her. “I don’t wonder you hated to leave home for school, Jane,” said the visitor, surveying the rustic beauty of the rambling house, built unlike a California bungalow, and unlike an Eastern mansion, but exactly like what should be the home of Jane Allen. “This is absolutely charming.” “What?” asked Jane teasing. “Our Jap boy cook, or our Mexican boy valet? We have a queer household. Quite cosmopolitan, to put it mildly. Sometimes, when they get excited, I fancy the Tower of Babel has fallen anew. Come on, that means dinner,” as the big Indian gong pealed softly its muffled announcement.