ded as her especial
guest, and since Claire had come to the cottage on Priscilla's
invitation, Peggy felt that it devolved on Priscilla to see her off, in
spite of the unfortunate termination of the visit.

"As for seeing her off, I shall be glad enough to do that," declared
Priscilla, who, now that her tongue was loosed, was atoning for many
days of repression. "But, Peggy, I don't see how I can stand a four-mile
drive with that girl."

"I'll be there too, honey, and with the stage driver listening to every
word, we can't talk about anything except the scenery. Please come,
Priscilla. Don't give her any excuse for thinking that you haven't done
everything that could possibly be expected of you."

Accordingly, the stage calling the next morning found three passengers
awaiting its arrival, and the keenly observant driver, who occasionally
turned his head, and proffered an observation, in case the conversation
languished, must have formed an entirely new conception of girls of
seventeen. Had they all been seventy, and the merest acquaintances, they
could not have treated one another with more precise politeness, nor
have conversed with greater decorum. Altogether, Priscilla had some show
of reason for referring later to the drive as "ghastly." Unluckily,
Claire's train was thirty minutes late, and the tension was accordingly
prolonged for that length of time. As Peggy attempted to make
conversation out of such material as the weather and the time Claire
would reach home, Priscilla was reflecting that if she were obliged to
wait much longer she would disgrace herself either by laughing or by
crying, or by indulging in both diversions at one and the same moment.

But the whistle sounded in time to save Priscilla's hardly tried
self-control. The girls shook hands primly. Peggy and Priscilla wished
Claire a pleasant journey. Claire replied by effusive thanks. At length,
to the relief of all three, she handed her suitcase to an obsequious
porter and stepped aboard the Pullman.

"Now be ready," Peggy cried, clutching Priscilla's arm. "Wave your hand
if she looks out." But Claire did not deign so much as a glance at her
late companions, and the train which bore her out of the heart of the
green hills, carried her forever out of the lives of the two who watched
her departure.

The girls seated themselves on one of the station benches to await
Elaine's train. Peggy was a little sober, for unjustified as she knew
Claire's su