rust Lucy or to like her ways.

More than any one else, however, she herself had won the other girl's
liking, and had come to feel a certain responsibility for her. So when
Lucy, after making wholly ready, had stolen to the door, let herself
out, and closed it silently behind her, Evelyn sprang out of bed.

Perhaps Lucy simply could not sleep, she said to herself, and had gone
down to sit on the lower porch, or lie in one of the hammocks swinging
under the trees. The night was exceedingly warm, even the usual cooling
breath from the river being absent.

"That's all there is of it," said Evelyn, reassuringly, to herself,
although at the same time she felt uneasiness enough to send her out
into the hall to a gable window over the porch, which commanded a view
of the camp. Nothing stirring was to be seen, except the dwindling flame
of the evening camp-fire, burned every night for cheer, not for warmth.
Evelyn crept to a side window. As she reached it a white figure could be
seen hurrying away through the orchard.

Back in her room, Evelyn dressed with as much haste as Lucy had done, if
with less care. Instead of the white frock of the evening, however, she
put on a dark blue linen, for she was sure that she must follow Lucy and
discover what this strange departure, stealthily made at midnight, could
mean.

She went down to the front door. The moment she opened it a tall figure
started up from one of the long lounging chairs there, and Jeff's voice
said softly, "Charlotte?"

"No, it's Evelyn," she whispered back. "Don't be surprised. I thought
everybody in the camp was asleep."

"I wasn't sleepy, and thought I'd lounge here till I was. What's the
matter? Anybody sick?"

"No. I'm just going for a little walk."

"Walk? At this hour? Can't you sleep? But you mustn't go and walk alone,
you know. I'll go with you."

She did not want to tell him, but she saw no other way.

"It's Lucy," she explained hurriedly. "She's dressed and gone out
somewhere, and I can't think why. It frightened me, and I'm going to
follow her."

"No, you stay here and I'll follow. Which way did she go? What can she
be up to? That girl's a queer one, and I've thought so from the first."

"No, no! There's some explanation. It may be she walks in her sleep, you
know--though I'm sure she's never done it this winter. Let me go, Jeff;
she'll get too far. She took the path toward the river. Oh, if it
_should_ be sleep-walking----"

"I guess it's