“It is well worth while to make one’s self scarce when it inspires such sentiments,” said Judith. “I am very well, thank you, and just help yourself to yeses, for any of the other questions. Jane, you look wonderful, after your practice. Did they threaten to expel me for not being on hand?” “Where were you? I was afraid we would lose our end without our trusty forward.” “I fully expected to get to the gym in time, Jane, but I was detained,” she finished with a comical twist of the last word showing how utterly meaningless it was intended to be. “Oh!” said Jane, displaying a similar lack of intelligence. “But it was very wonderful,” contributed Helen, her deep blue eyes (tabulated as violet) fairly melting into a sweetness that made itself felt with returned affection by her friends. “Jane—was—the star.” “Mercy, friends, mercy!” exclaimed Jane, in mock alarm. “If I receive any more compliments I shall expect to go up in smoke. It ‘ain’t natural nor human,’ as old Uncle Todd would say,” and she slipped down in a pretty heap on the lawn now hidden under the last fall of autumn leaves. “What do you think a girl is made of, really? Am I bomb proof, and air tight, and warranted not to go up, or go off? You should have seen me shirr a big hole in my best stocking this morning, to know how weakly and sickeningly human I am.” “Oh, the shame!” exclaimed Helen. “I should have fixed that——” “Oh, never, Helen!” and Jane spoke with newly assumed asperity. “You remember you are not to do a single thing for me or Judith. Those gossipy girls must have none of that sort of thing to fall back on. I shirr my own socks and wear my own blisters, thank you just the same.” Helen’s face fell, and she kicked at her heels in the new girl fashion. All the girls did that, and she unconsciously had acquired the trick. Judith picked up the cue, and presently all three were kicking their own flat shoed heels. “I said my own blisters,” put in Jane. “This is not a contest,” and she patted the heel supposed to be affected from the rosetted stocking. “Judy, I had a lovely letter from Aunt Mary,” and the soft gray eyes went dewy. “It is wonderful at El Capitan just now——” “Jane Allen, you stop this very minute. Do you want me to run away? I was dreaming of Fedario. I heard your old uke so late last night, it went into my sleeping brain, and Jane Allen, I simply can’t bear to think of Montana these days. I would have one of the boys send me a false alarm wire, if I thought dear little Aunt Mary would take me in.” Judy was snivelling and sobbing in the most woebegone manner. That El Capitan was glorious in autumn was not to be denied, and both girls looked rather wistfully toward the setting sun. “There’s Drusilla Landers and Norma Travers!” exclaimed Jane, happily breaking in on Judith’s dirge. “Let’s overtake them, and have company to the post office. I want to walk so fast I shall not be able to think. I feel exactly like giving my head a real rest, Judy.”