ficant glance toward the end of the veranda.

"Hippy, Nora," called David, "come over here and sing."

"'Sing, sing, what shall I sing?'" chanted Hippy. "Shall it be a sweetly
sentimental ditty, or shall I sing of brooks and meadows, fields and
flowers?"

"Sing that funny one you sang for the fellows the night of the Pi
Ipsilon dinner," urged David.

"Very well," beamed Hippy. "Remember, to the singer belongs the food. I
always negotiate for refreshments before lifting up my voice in song."

"I will see that you are taken care of, Hippy," smiled Mrs. Harlowe, who
had come out on the veranda in time to hear Hippy's declaration.

"Hello, Mother dear," called Grace, "I didn't know you were there."

The young people were on their feet in an instant. Grace led her mother
to a chair. "Stay with us awhile, Mother," she said. "Hippy is going to
sing, and Nora, too."

"Then I shall surely stay," replied Mrs. Harlowe. "And after the songs
you must come into the house and be my guests. The table is set for
seven."

"How nice in you, Mother!" exclaimed Grace, kissing her mother's cheek.
"You are always doing the things that make people happy. Nora and Hippy,
please sing your very best for Mother. You first, Hippy, because I want
Nora to sing Tosti's 'Serenata,' and a comic song afterward will
completely spoil the effect."

Hippy sang two songs in his own inimitable fashion. Then Nora's sweet,
high soprano voice began the "Serenata" to the subdued tinkling
accompaniment of Reddy's mandolin. Two years in the conservatory had
done much for Nora's voice, though its plaintive sweetness had been her
natural heritage. As they listened to the clear, rounded tones, with
just a suspicion of sadness in them, the little company realized to a
person that Nora's hopes of becoming known in the concert or grand opera
world were quite likely to be fulfilled.

"How I wish Anne were here to-night," lamented Grace, after having
vigorously applauded Nora's song. "She loves to hear you sing, Nora."

"I know it," sighed Nora. "Dear little Anne! I'm so sorry we can't see
her before we go back to the conservatory. While we have been sitting
here singing and enjoying ourselves, Anne has been appearing in her
farewell performance. I am glad we had a chance to visit her this
summer, even though we had to cross the state to do it."

"She will be here to-morrow night, but we shall be at the end of our
journey by that time," lamented Jessica. "I w