She took her sister's parting injunctions and advice with a meekness that verged so nearly on tears that Joyce hastened to change the subject.
"Think of all the things I'll have to tell you about when I get back from the seashore.

Only two short months,--just eight little weeks,--but I'm going to crowd them so full of glorious hard work that I'll accomplish wonders.

There'll be no end of good times, too: clambakes and fishing and bathing to fill up the chinks in the days, and the story-telling in the evenings around the driftwood fires.

It will be over before we know it, and I'll be back here ready to take you home before you have time to really miss me." Cheered by Joyce's view of the subject, Mary turned her back a moment till she had winked away the tears that had begun to gather, then straightway started out to make the most of the eight little weeks left to her at The Locusts.

When she went with the others to the station "to give the house-party on wheels a grand send-off," as Kitty expressed it, her bright little face was so happy that it brought a smiling response from every departing guest.
"Good-by, Miss Mary," Miles Bradford said, cordially, coming up to her in the waiting-room.