re a car and take us a joy-ride,
and Lenox is to get leave and join us. You know Lenox isn't demobilized
yet. He's in a camp in Wales. But he expects they'll give him about five
days. Think of seeing Britain in a car, with Father and Mother and Giles
and Lenox! I want to shout!"

"You little lucker!" sympathized Loveday.

"But that isn't all yet. I haven't finished telling you," triumphed
Diana, laying a fluffy head on her room-mate's shoulder, and poking a
caressing finger into Loveday's dimples. "Mother said in her letter that
she guessed I'd enjoy the tour so much more if I had a girl companion
with me, and would I like to ask one of my school friends? You bet I
would! Ra--ther! Do you know whom I'm going to ask?"

"Wendy?"

"Wendy! No! I'm very fond of her, but she's not _the_ one for a tour
like this. Besides, I know she's going to the seaside with her own home
folks. There's only one person from Pendlemere I want, and that's
Loveday. Will you come? I'd just adore to have you!"

"O-o-o-oh! If your mother really asks me."

"Of course she does! She says she's writing about it to Miss Todd."

Such a dazzling prospect as a joy-ride through England was hardly to be
refused. In due course Loveday's aunt gave her permission, and the
invitation was accepted. It was arranged for the motor tour to begin on
Easter Tuesday, so as to allow Diana and her family to have a few quiet
days together first. They were to spend them at Windermere, then call
with the car at Liverpool for Loveday, and also to pick up Lenox, who
would join them there from the American camp in Wales.

Loveday went about the school feeling as if her reason were rocking. She
had never imagined that anything so nice could happen to her. Since the
loss of her parents life had not been too bright. Sometimes she almost
dreaded the holidays at her aunt's. She was shy and sensitive, and the
impression that she was not altogether welcome there was a bitter one.
It is very hard for a girl when she has no home of her own, and no one
whose special prerogative it is to love and encourage her. Though her
uncle and aunt saw that she had everything needful in the way of
education and clothing, they never petted her, and she had grown up
with the starved feeling of the child who lacks kisses. She had too
much self-respect to parade her woes at school, and perhaps her fellow
seniors mistook her shyness for pride; they were nice to her, but she
had not a real confida