about her friend
and drawing her to the window where, dark against the moonlit sky, rose
the tower of Overton Hall.

"Almost too happy for words, and yet I dread leaving Overton."

"You must come back next year and visit me. I do hope I shall make a
good house mother. Do you know, Anne, in my mind I've already picked out
a motto to hang over my door. It is, 'Blessed are they that have found
their work.'"

CHAPTER XXIV

CONCLUSION

The full moon shone down with his broadest smile on the group of young
people who occupied Mrs. Gray's roomy, old-fashioned veranda.

"We're here because we're here," caroled Hippy Wingate, balancing
himself on the edge of the porch rail, both arms outspread to show how
successfully he could sit on the narrow railing without support.

"You won't be 'here' very long," cautioned Miriam Nesbit. "You are
likely to land in that rose bush just below you. It's a very thorny one,
too. I know, because I tried to pull a rose from it only a little while
ago. Remember, I have warned you."

"Don't worry over me, Miriam," declared Hippy airily, pretending to lose
his balance and recovering himself with an exaggerated jerk.

"Oh, I am not worrying," retorted Miriam. "If _you_ fall backward into
that rose bush it won't hurt _me_."

"Did I say it would, my child?" asked Hippy serenely.

"Don't answer him, Miriam," advised Nora. "He is like Tennyson's
'Brooklet,' he goes on forever."

"How peaceful and quiet it was in Oakdale until yesterday," was Hippy's
sorrowful comment. "'Gone are the days when my heart was light and gay,'
etc."

"It will be not merely a case of bygone days, but bygone Hippy as well,"
threatened David. "Reddy and I intend to defend our friends against your
personal attacks."

"I wasn't personal," beamed Hippy. "I didn't say anything about any one.
I merely observed that since yesterday Oakdale had become a howling
wilderness----"

Hippy did not stop to finish his speech, but, nimbly dodging David and
Reddy Brooks, who rose from the porch, determination written on their
faces, bounded down the steps and disappeared around the corner of the
house.

"He is the same Hippy who made life merry for us eight years ago when we
were high school freshmen," smiled Grace. "He hasn't changed in the
least."

"None of my Christmas children have changed," was Mrs. Gray's fond
retort.

"Neither has our fairy godmother," reminded Anne.

"I never feel grown up or responsible