turned hastily, and, running across the hall to her own
room, shut the door behind her with a bang.

CHAPTER XVI.

A FEAST OF LANTERNS.

The first week of July had come to an end, and with it came the end of
the house party.

"Oh, deah," croaked the Little Colonel like a dismal raven, as she
waited at the head of the stairs for the girls to finish dressing. "This
is the la-st mawnin' well all go racin' down to breakfast togethah! I'm
glad that Betty isn't goin' away for a while longah. If you all had to
leave at the same time, it would be so lonesome that I couldn't stand
it."

"I am glad, too," said Betty, groping her way slowly out of her room
with a green shade over her eyes. Her long night was nearly over now,
although it would be several months before she would be allowed to read.
Her godmother had written to Mrs. Appleton, saying that she wanted to
keep Betty with her until her eyes were stronger, and the child had
clapped her hands with delight when she received permission to stay,
never dreaming how long it would be before she ever saw the Cuckoo's
Nest again.

"This is the la-st time we'll ever ride together," sighed Joyce, as she
mounted Calico after breakfast. "Oh, it has been such fun, Lloyd, and
I've enjoyed this little clown pony more than I can ever tell. He is the
dearest, ugliest little beast that ever wore a halter, and I'll never
forget him as long as I live."

"And this is the last time we can go galloping out of this gate
together, and see the boys coming up the road to meet us," cried
Eugenia. "There they are, all three of them. Oh, they haven't heard the
news yet! I'm going to dash on ahead and tell them."

Eugenia's news was that she was going abroad with her father in the
fall. It had all been arranged since he came to Locust. Finding that
business required one of the members of his firm to spend a month in
England, he telegraphed back to the office that he would go.

"I don't know which is the most excited over the prospect, myself, or my
maid," said Eugenia to the boys. "Poor old Eliot is simply wild with
delight at the thought of seeing her home and family again, and I am
nearly as much upset as she is. We're to be gone five or six months.
Papa says that while we are over there we might as well go the rounds,
so maybe we'll spend Christmas in France, in the same place that Joyce
did."

"What time do you leave Locust to-night?" asked Malcolm.

"On the ten o'clock train,