managing to wave good-bys.
Their boxes had been dispatched the previous day, their hand-bags had
gone on by cart before breakfast and would be waiting for them at the
station, where Jones, that most useful factotum, would, by special
arrangement with the station-master, be taking their tickets before the
ordinary opening of the booking-office.

Though the departure of sixteen girls made somewhat of a clearance at
Chilcombe Hall, Miss Walters' labors were not yet over. There was a
train at eight and a train at ten, and the young people who had to wait
for these found it difficult to know how to employ the interval until it
was their turn to enter the taxis. By nine o'clock Lilias and Dulcie,
ready in their riding habits, were looking eagerly out of the
dining-hall window along the drive which led to the gate.

"I know Elton would be early," said Dulcie. "It's always Astley who
stops and fusses. It was the same when Everard went cub-hunting. You
don't think there's a hitch, do you?" (uneasily). "Shall we get a
horrid yellow envelope and a message to say 'Come by train'? It would be
_too_ bad, and yet, it's as likely as not!"

Dulcie's fears, which in the course of twenty minutes' waiting and
watching had almost conjured up the telegraph boy with his scarlet
bicycle and brown leather wallet, were suddenly dispelled, however, by a
brisk sound of trotting, and a moment later appeared the welcome sight
of her grandfather's two grooms riding up to the house, each leading a
spare horse by the rein. Those schoolfellows who had not yet departed to
the station came to the door to witness the interesting start. A sleek,
well-groomed horse is always a beautiful object, and the girls decided
unanimously that Lilias and Dulcie were lucky to be carried home in so
delightful a fashion. They watched them admiringly as they mounted.
Edith stroked Rajah's smooth neck as she said good-by to her friends.

"Riding beats motoring in my opinion," she vouchsafed, "though of course
you can go farther in a car. Perhaps I shall pass you on the road."

"No, you won't, for we're taking a short cut across country. We always
choose by-lanes if we can. Write and tell me if you get a motor-scooter.
They sound fearfully thrillsome. Good-by, see you again in January!"

"Good-by! and a merry Christmas to everybody!" added Dulcie, turning on
her saddle to wave a parting salute to those who were left behind on the
doorstep.

The two girls walked their