"Miss Jane? Well, she's 'most a dear, too--sometimes. As for Sunbridge--I love both the East and the West now. Don't you see? But, to-day, coming up from Boston, I got to thinking about it--my dear prairie home; and how I had hated to leave it, and how now I was going back to it with Aunt Julia and the girls all with me. And I was so happy, so wonderfully happy, that a great big something rose within me, and I felt so--so queer, as if I could fly, and fly, and _fly_! And then, when I saw the girls all dressed alike so prettily, and heard the 'Texas, Texas, Texas'--what did I do? I didn't do anything but cry--_cry_, Harold, just as if I didn't like things. And the girls were so disappointed, I know they were!" "Never mind; I guess you can make them understand--anyhow, you have me," said Harold, trying to speak with a lightness that would hide the fact that her words had made him, too, feel "queer." Harold did not enjoy feeling "queer." A moment later they turned into the broad white driveway that led up to the Kennedy home. On the veranda of the fine old house stood a sweet-faced, motherly-looking woman with tender eyes and a loving smile. Near her was a taller, younger woman with eyes almost as interested, and a smile almost as cordial. "You dears--both of you!" cried Genevieve, running up the steps and into the arms of the two women. "Thank you, Harold," smiled Mrs. Kennedy over Genevieve's bobbing head; "thank you for bringing our little girl home." "As if I wasn't glad to do it!" laughed the boy, gallantly, as he picked up the reins and sprang into the cart. To the horse he added later, when quite out of earshot of the ladies: "Jerry, I'm thinking Genevieve isn't the only one in that house that has 'improved' since last August. It strikes me that Miss Jane Chick has done a little on her own account. Did you see that smile? That was a really, truly smile, Jerry. Not the 'I-suppose-I-must' kind!" Genevieve and the two ladies were still on the veranda when the five white-clad girls turned in at the broad front walk. "We came around this way home," announced Tilly. "You _said_ you wanted us." "Want you! Well, I reckon I do," cried Genevieve, springing to her feet. "Come up here this minute! Now say it--say it again--that thing you did at the station. I want Aunt Julia to hear it--and Miss Jane." The change in Genevieve's voice and manner was unconscious, but it was very evident. No one noticed it apparently, however, but Tilly; and she only puckered her lips into an odd little smile as she formed in line with the other girls: Tilly was not without some experience herself with Miss Jane and her ways. "Now, one, two, three, ready!" counted Cordelia, sternly, her face a tragedy of responsibility lest this final triumph of their labors should be anything less than the glorious success the occasion demanded. Once more five eager, girlish countenances faced squarely front. Once more five fresh young voices chanted with lusty precision: