She flew to her room. Fortunately the house was practically deserted, for Jeanne was too excited to remember to be quiet. Mr. and Mrs. Charles Huntington, however, had left at two o'clock for a long motoring trip to the country, and would not be home until midnight. It was Bridget's afternoon out and Maggie was busy in the kitchen. "All the things I _don't_ want," said she, opening her closet door, "I'll hang on _this_ side. I shan't need any party clothes for the Cinder Pond. Nor any white shoes." Of course the suitcase wouldn't hold everything; no suitcase ever does. Jeanne's selection was really quite wonderful. She would have liked to buy presents for all the children, but there was no time for that. Besides, to the Cinder Pond child, the city streets had always been terrifying. She had never visited the shopping district alone. But there was a cake of "smelly" white soap to take to Sammy and an outgrown linen dress to cut down for Annie, and perhaps Allen would find her something in Chicago for the others. She hoped Sammy wouldn't eat the soap. The suitcase packed, Jeanne, who was naturally orderly, folded her discarded garments neatly away in the dresser drawers. No one would have guessed that an excited traveler had just packed a good portion of her wardrobe in that perfectly neat room. Certainly not Maggie, who looked in to tell her that her dinner was ready in the breakfast-room. "And not a soul here to eat it but you," added Maggie. "Couldn't I have it with my grandfather?" "He said not," returned Maggie. "I was setting it in there, but he said he wanted to eat by himself tonight. He seems different--better, maybe. Sick folks, they say, _do_ get a bit short like when they're on the mend." At eight o 'clock, Jeanne tapped at her grandfather's door. There was no response. She opened the door very quietly and went inside. Although he usually sat up until nine, Mr. Huntington was in bed and apparently asleep. When you don't wish to say good-by to a person that you love very much and possibly never expect to see again, perhaps it is wiser to pretend that you are asleep. Jeanne left the softest and lightest of kisses on the wrinkled hand outside the cover, and then tiptoed to the hall to find James. Her only other farewell had been given to the mirror-child in her closet door. "Ready, Miss Jeanne? Very well, Miss. I'll get your suitcase. We'd better be starting. It's a good way to the station and there's quite a bit to be done there. You can sit in a snug corner behind a newspaper, while I buy your tickets and all." "I'll carry this," said Jeanne, who had a large square package under her arm. "It's my work-box. I shall need that. I expect to sew a lot in Bancroft, but it wouldn't go into my suitcase. And, James. I left two of my newest handkerchiefs on my dresser. Tomorrow, will you please give one of them to Maggie, the other to Bridget? I tried to find something for you; but there wasn't a thing that would do."