by your leave."

"Cheer up," she said, with a chuckle, "I've done all the 'lugging' I'm
going to for a little while. And in the meantime," she added, her voice
thrilling with anticipation, "let's think of something really
pleasant--Palm Beach, for instance."

"Now you are talking!" cried Bess approvingly. "I have to pinch myself
about every five minutes to realize that I'm really going there. I
wonder if it is really as gay as people say it is. That's where all the
actresses go, you know. And millionaires and authors----"

"And bald-headed business men and fussy, over-dressed women," added Nan
demurely, her eyes twinkling at the look of horror that Bess turned upon
her.

"Nan, how can you?" Bess burst out, as Nan had fully expected her to do.
"Bald-headed men, indeed! Do you suppose I have come all this way just
to see a lot of old bald-headed men?"

"You haven't come yet," Nan reminded her, her eyes sparkling. "I didn't
say _all_ the men were bald-headed," she added, in an attempt to soothe
her outraged companion. "But dad says most of them are--especially the
millionaires."

"Oh, how--how--dreadful!" stuttered Bess. "Why, all the millionaires I
ever saw had beautiful, leonine heads with shaggy manes of thick white
hair and strong, clearly cut chins----"

"That's in the movies," Nan interrupted with a chuckle. "Papa Sherwood
says that if all the men had hair like the movie heroes they would have
to spend all their energy growing it and wouldn't have time to attend to
their brains. And then where would their millions be?"

"Well," said Bess, unable to find an answer to this queer question, yet
still indignant, nevertheless, "you needn't go to work to spoil all my
illusions. I don't believe you have a speck of romance anywhere about
you, Nan Sherwood."

"Maybe I haven't," Nan admitted cheerfully, without looking the
slightest bit worried about it. "But I expect to have lots of fun, just
the same. Oh, Bess, look out!"

Bess, who had stood up to pull down the shade, jumped and looked about
at Nan wildly.

"What's the matter?" she gasped. "Train on fire?"

"No. But you almost sat on a chocolate," said Nan calmly, as she removed
the large and luscious sweet from Bess's seat. Bess stared at her
reproachfully and sank back into the chair.

"You might just as well kill me as scare me to death," she said
reproachfully.

For a while after that the happy girls forgot to talk and sat staring
contentedly out at th