Kit did not open it until they boarded the limited in Chicago and were well on their way, speeding eastward. There was no sign of snow as yet, but the land seemed to lie locked in a frosty grip of barrenness. The Dean seemed to smile perpetually now. He occupied the lower part of the section across the aisle, and Kit loved to watch him as he sat by the window, his little black skullcap making him look like a portrait of an old-time French savant. Every now and then he would glance up and meet her eyes with a little smile of mutual understanding. It was as if they, too, were united in a close bond of sympathy, ever since they had solved the mystery of Amenotaph and Ra's circle. When lunch time drew near Kit opened the train basket. There were fruit and home-made preserves, little tempting jars of sweet pickles and stuffed olives, home-made fruit cake and jars of club cheese with thin wafers that just matched them. The girls at Hope had sent down five pounds of fudge as a parting gift to be included in the basket, but best of all, Kit thought, was a young wild turkey, roasted to perfection, and stuffed with chestnuts. "Isn't this just like Anne!" Kit exclaimed, exultantly. "She knows how I love to nibble on good things to eat. Now we won't have to go into the dining-car for lunch, and it will seem like a regular picnic having it here." The Dean was like a boy in his enjoyment of the unconventional luncheon. He ordered a wonderful salad as his share and a pot of French cocoa. "Doesn't this remind you, Daphne, of some of the basket luncheons we used to have in England and France years ago?" he said, happily. "Cousin Beth told us last year about a party she was with that went to the North Cape," Kit related, "and just when they were all transfixed by the majesty of the midnight sun one of the ladies said it was the most unique experience of her whole life, eating crackers and cheese on the North Cape." "She would have left peanut shells on Fujiyama," the Dean replied, gravely. They reached Washington the following day, and here the weather was even milder, with almost a touch of autumn left in the air. Christmas was Thursday, and Kit had pleaded for them not to miss Christmas Eve at home, so while the Dean took the urn up to the Institute, and left his records there, Miss Daphne and Kit spent nearly four hours driving around the city and visiting famous points of interest. "Be sure and take a taxi, so you'll cover more ground," the Dean suggested when he left them, but Kit could not resist the beaming smile of one of the old-time darky coachmen, who sat drowsing on the seat of an open victoria outside the Capitol grounds. He was dressed in an old Colonial blue livery, with a tall silk hat, curving out at the top like those of the seventies.