h of hot
plates. Julia laughed herself tired at the nonsense, the mad plans, and
untrammelled dreams. Kennedy was to be a writer, 'Lizabeth the president
of a girls' college, little Mary wanted to live in "Venith." The boys
were all to be rich; Peter, the oldest, drew his brothers into a long,
serious discussion as to the exact proportions of the ideal private car.

"We'll have the finish mahogany, d'ye see?" said Peter, "and the walls
and curtains of dark green velvet."

"Dark green velvet!" Kennedy said, from the couch where she was sitting,
busy with a torn sleeve lining. "Oh, horrors! Why not red velvet and
gold braid!"

"Well, what would _you_ have?" Peter asked belligerently.

"Oh, grayish blue velvet," 'Lizabeth suggested rapturously.

"Very pale, you know, and silvery curtains," Kennedy agreed, "and one
gorgeous bluish-grayish-pinkish rug, like the two-thousand-dollar one
at the White House!"

"Well," Peter said, satisfied. "And what colour upholstery?"

"Dark blue might be beautiful," Julia submitted timidly.

"Dark blue--you're on, Miss Page!"

"Or a sort of blue brocade," 'Lizabeth said dreamily.

"And I'll tell you what we'll name the cars," George, the second
brother, suddenly contributed; "you know they've got to be named, Pete.
We'll call the dining-car, 'Dinah,' and the sleeper, 'Bertha'; do you
see?"

The others shouted approval, Peter adding with a grin, a moment later:

"And we might call the observation car 'Luke'!"

"Oh, _Peter_!" Kennedy expostulated, laughing. She presently interrupted
the completing details of the private train by general suggestions of
bed. The four girls went upstairs together.

"Oh, Mary, you've fixed everything, you little angel, you!" said
Kennedy, seeing that hats and wraps had been put away, and a couch made
up in a large shabby bedroom. 'Lizabeth, professing that she loved a
couch, settled herself upon it with great satisfaction, Julia had a
single bed, and Kennedy and the little Mary shared a somewhat larger
one.

Julia watched the sisters with deep admiration; they were all tired, she
knew, yet vigorous ablutions went on in the cold little bathroom, and
clothes were brushed and made ready for to-morrow's need. Their joyous
talk was pitifully practical, Mary raising the dread topic of new shoes
for Stephen, the youngest, and Kennedy somewhat ruefully conceding that
the shoes must be had, even at the cost of the needed gallon of olive
oil.

"No salads