o, were
united in a close bond of sympathy, ever since they had solved the mystery
of Amenotaph and Ra's circle.

When lunch time drew near Kit opened the train basket. There were fruit
and home-made preserves, little tempting jars of sweet pickles and stuffed
olives, home-made fruit cake and jars of club cheese with thin wafers that
just matched them. The girls at Hope had sent down five pounds of fudge as
a parting gift to be included in the basket, but best of all, Kit thought,
was a young wild turkey, roasted to perfection, and stuffed with
chestnuts.

"Isn't this just like Anne!" Kit exclaimed, exultantly. "She knows how I
love to nibble on good things to eat. Now we won't have to go into the
dining-car for lunch, and it will seem like a regular picnic having it
here."

The Dean was like a boy in his enjoyment of the unconventional luncheon.
He ordered a wonderful salad as his share and a pot of French cocoa.

"Doesn't this remind you, Daphne, of some of the basket luncheons we used
to have in England and France years ago?" he said, happily.

"Cousin Beth told us last year about a party she was with that went to the
North Cape," Kit related, "and just when they were all transfixed by the
majesty of the midnight sun one of the ladies said it was the most unique
experience of her whole life, eating crackers and cheese on the North
Cape."

"She would have left peanut shells on Fujiyama," the Dean replied,
gravely.

They reached Washington the following day, and here the weather was even
milder, with almost a touch of autumn left in the air. Christmas was
Thursday, and Kit had pleaded for them not to miss Christmas Eve at home,
so while the Dean took the urn up to the Institute, and left his records
there, Miss Daphne and Kit spent nearly four hours driving around the city
and visiting famous points of interest.

"Be sure and take a taxi, so you'll cover more ground," the Dean suggested
when he left them, but Kit could not resist the beaming smile of one of
the old-time darky coachmen, who sat drowsing on the seat of an open
victoria outside the Capitol grounds. He was dressed in an old Colonial
blue livery, with a tall silk hat, curving out at the top like those of
the seventies.

"But, Aunt Daphne, doesn't he act just exactly as though he had been a
retainer in our honored family for generations?" Kit regarded his back
with distinct approbation as they drove along Pennsylvania Avenue, and
when the old fel