ere wild sudden storm flurries, and as Kit expressed it, a
feeling in the air as if there might be a regular circus of a cataclysm
any minute.

Hardly a Saturday passed but what she was included in some motoring party.
The Dean never joined these, but Miss Daphne thoroughly enjoyed her new
role of chaperon. Sometimes the run would be further north, along the
route to Milwaukee. Other days they would dip into the beautiful wooded
roads that cut through the ravines, leading over towards Lake Delevan. And
once, towards the end of November, in the very last spurt of Indian Summer
weather, they took a week-end tour up to Eau Claire and Chippewa Falls.

"I only wish," Rex said, "that we could come up here next spring when they
have their big logging time. It's one of the greatest sights you ever saw,
Kit. I have seen the logs jammed out there in the river until they looked
like a giant's game of jackstraws. Maybe we could arrange a trip, don't
you think so, mother?"

"I don't see any reason why not," replied Mrs. Bellamy.

"But I won't be here then," protested Kit.

"Oh, you'll stay till the end of the spring term, dear," Miss Daphne
corrected, and right there and then Kit experienced her first pang of
homesickness. Would she really be away from the home nest until next June?
Even with this novelty of recreation, backed by wealth, she felt suddenly
as though she could have slipped away from it all without a single regret,
just to find herself safely back home with the family.

When her next letter arrived at Maple Lawn, Jean read it over her mother's
shoulder. The two younger girls were at school, and a little puzzled frown
drew Jean's straight dark brows together.

"She's getting homesick, mother. Kit never writes tenderly like that
unless she feels a heart throb. I never thought she'd last as long as she
has----"

But Mrs. Bobbins looked dubious.

"She seems to have made such a good impression. I hate to have her spoil
it by jumping back too soon. It's such a benefit for her."

Jean stopped polishing lamp chimneys and gazed out of the kitchen window
towards the far-reaching fields, where none but the crows could find a
living now. She was only able to run up from New York once a month, since
she had taken a position of junior instructor at the Academy, and yet each
time she found herself turning with a sigh of relief and safety from the
city life to the peace of these everlasting hills.

"I don't blame her a bit