"I haven't had my criticism yet, and if I don't get it next pose, you'll have to go to the station without me," said Elinor to the other two girls as she met them in the corridor the next morning. "Mr. Benton's awfully slow, but I can't miss this first criticism, you know."  
"David'll be fearfully disappointed," remarked Judith dispassionately. "It's his first family spree, and I think it's your duty to go, Elinor."
 
"Oh, I'll be through in time for the luncheon," said Elinor, hastily. "But if I'm not out here by eleven-fifteen, you'd better start without me. I can meet you somewhere, or you all can come over here for me."
 
Doris Leighton, passing, stopped for a gay word with Patricia and Judith as they loitered in the hall. She made a laughing little gesture of envy when she heard their program for the day, which Patricia, eager to make amends for the unspoken slight upon her, poured out generously.
 
"What fun it will be," she said, with the faintest tinge of sadness in her lovely voice. "It must be splendid to have a brother! I have always so longed for one."
 
Patricia caught herself in the act of offering her a share in David Francis, but remembering his cold criticism of other attractive girls in the past, closed her lips in time.
 
"We didn't have one till this winter," she said cheerfully. "So I guess we appreciate him for all he's worth."
 
Doris Leighton's pretty eyes widened. "What in the world do you mean?" she asked with such real interest that Patricia gladly rushed into the tale of the kidnaping of her five-year-old twin brother, and how he had been given up as dead for all the long years until the chance discovery of his identity revealed him to them at the very time when they were most in need of him. She did not dwell on the financial reinforcement that he brought to them, feeling instinctively that the knowledge of their straitened means would lower them in Doris Leighton's estimation, but drew a lively picture of the jolly Christmas party they had had at Greycroft, and the happy future they were looking forward to in their life together.
 
"He's at Prep now, but he'll enter Yale next year," she ended proudly. "He's awfully clever, though he doesn't show it. He behaves just as silly and stupid as other boys most of the time."
 
"He must be a nice boy," returned the Class Beauty, with lagging interest and a shade of condescension in her manner. "Of course, he's young yet. I thought he was Kendall Major's twin."
 
Judith, who had been scanning her narrowly, opened her eyes at this, and asked innocently, "Is that why you thought you'd like him? Because he was older and more grown-up?"
 
Doris Leighton laughed a rippling laugh that had no shade of the annoyance which Patricia felt rise hotly at Judith's rather pert question.
 
"Bless you, no, child," she said lightly. "I merely thought he would be more apt to be like your oldest sister, whom I admire tremendously, as everyone knows."
 
Patricia could scarcely wait till Miss Leighton was out of earshot.
 
"What in the world made you so disagreeable?" she demanded of the unconcerned Judith. "Any blind bat could see that you wanted to be nasty, in spite of your namby-pamby airs."
 
Judith merely smiled her superior smile. "I know more about Miss Doris Leighton than you think," she said, nonchalantly. "Her little sister is in my class at school, and I just got acquainted with her yesterday."
 
Patricia stamped her foot in vexation. "What do you mean?" she cried. "You're the most exasperating——"
 
The words died on her tongue, as Elinor suddenly emerged from the portrait class door, her face radiant and with an exclamation of quick pleasure at the sight of them.
 
"I got my criticism! And he said the work was good! Now I can write to Bruce," and her voice rang with a thrilling note of joy that carried Patricia with her.
 
"Good old Norn!" she cried, with a mighty hug. "I told you that you were the real stuff! Ju and I are mighty proud of our big sister, aren't we, Ju?"
 
Judith caught Elinor's hand, and pressed close, silently adoring.
 
"You girls are angels to wait for me till the very last moment," chatted Elinor, stuffing her things into her locker recklessly. "I hated to run the risk of not going to the station, but, oh, it was worth it!"
 
Patricia watched her with studious eyes as she pinned on her hat and hurried into her wraps, holding forth the while in an exultation most unusual to her.
 
"You're 'fair lifted,' aren't you, Norn?" she asked curiously. "I didn't know you ever got so daffy over anything. I've never seen you if you have."
 
Judith looked wise. "I know how she feels," she declared, sagely. "I get awfully excited when I write something good. Why, sometimes I cry, I'm so happy about it, and I jump up and down, too, all by myself."
 
Patricia grinned. "You two geniuses understand each other, I see. Might a humdrum mortal remind you that David is just about sliding into the train shed at this moment?"
 
"Mercy! Are we so late?" exclaimed Elinor, remorsefully. "Hurry, Judith. Don't wait for me. I'll catch up to you before you get to the corner."
 
Off they raced, and came panting into the station, to find the express ten minutes late, and David just stepping from the platform of the still moving line of cars.
 
Patricia, who denounced recklessness in others, flew to meet him with loud reproaches, regardless of the thronging crowd of undergraduates that were nimbly springing off after him.
 
"You ought to be ashamed of yourself, David Carson!" she cried, her big gray eyes alight and a pretty flush on her cheeks. "You'll simply kill yourself some day, that's what you'll do! Why can't you wait till it stops?"
 
David, grinning broadly, cast a rather sheepish glance at the hurrying throng.
 
"Fellows were in a hurry," he explained good-naturedly, as he shook hands with a grip that made her wince. "Couldn't keep you girls waiting, anyway. Hullo, Elinor, how's the artist lady? Hullo, kid, give us your paw. Don't need to ask you how you are—you look out of sight."
 
Judith as she kissed him was wrinkling her smooth brows at him. "But I thought you were going to bring Tom Hughes——" she began, hesitatingly.
 
David burst into a laugh. "Blest if I didn't forget all about Tommy," he cried, turning to search the platform with eager eyes. "He's here somewhere, but he's a shy youth and I guess he was afraid you'd want to kiss him, too, Judy. Oh, there he is. Hullo, Tommy! Step lively, please!"
 
A tall dark-haired youth in a gray suit and overcoat, who had been standing with his back to them a short distance away, turned and showed a pleasant, homely face with two very lively eyes and a wide, firm mouth.
 
"This is the famous Hughes Junior," said David, introducing him to them collectively. "Collector of dead bugs, and trouble generally. He looks mild, but you want to watch him."
 
Hughes Junior chuckled, in a slightly embarrassed fashion.
 
"Don't give me away too hard," he said, in an agreeable voice. "I haven't taken any of your bugs yet. I won't tell on him, Miss Kendall," he added with an admiring glance at Elinor, "although I could make you shudder with tales of his dark deeds."
 
"Now, don't let's waste time," said David briskly. "Where are we bound first? How about taking a peep at the art-joint? Do you allow visitors in the morning?"
 
"Do you really want to go?" asked Patricia, beaming. "The modeling room's open, and you can always see the antique."
 
"Let's look them over then," returned David, promptly. "We aren't keen on antiques—got too many in our boarding-house, but we want to see what you've been up to, Miss, so lead on. Tommy here does not care much for female pursuits, but he'll have to put up with it for once."
 
"Female!" cried Patricia. "I like that! There are as many men as there are girls, aren't there, Elinor? You're shockingly ignorant, young man."
 
They started off, leaving Tom Hughes and Elinor to follow, and Judith, as she cast a searching backward glance at David's chum, whispered to Patricia that he must be very nice and sociable for he seemed just as much at home with Elinor as if she'd been another boy.
 
"Think he'll do for that future helpmeet you're expecting to turn up any old day, Judy?" Patricia mischievously whispered back.
 
"Patricia, he'll hear you!" gasped the scandalized Judith.
 
"What are you two mumbling about?" demanded David, shouldering his way through the assembly at the station door. "No fair talking secrets today. I've got to be in everything that's going on. 'Fess up now, Judy, you were complaining that Tommy's nose was too long for the hero of your next novel, weren't you?"
 
"I never said a word about his nose," cried Judith, relieved to evade the real topic. "I'd be more polite than to criticize his linny-ments like that."
 
Patricia joined in David's peal of laughter. "Shades of Hannah Ann defend us!" she cried, gayly. "Don't spring any more bombs like that on us, Infant. We've got to last till lunch time, anyway."
 
"Lunch time!" repeated David, warmly. "I'm aiming to survive till at least five minutes after! Think of all the good things we're going to massacre. Where does Elinor want to go, Miss Pat? She didn't nominate it in her note!"
 
"We all want to go to the same place we had such fun in last spring, when we thought we were so rich," said Judith quickly. "Elinor said you were to have first choice, though, as it was your treat."
 
"Litz-Tarlton, wasn't it?" asked David. "O.K. for me, and Tommy is a good-natured brute, who doesn't care where he feeds, so that he feeds."
 
They found the usual array of aproned students in the corridors and work rooms, and although the boys tried to be enthusiastic it was plain that the famous Academy did not appeal to them very strongly.
 
"Pretty smelly sort of a place, isn't it?" said Tom Hughes to Patricia, with great cheerfulness. "I suppose you get awfully mussed up with that clay, too. Isn't it hard to work in?"
 
Patricia, though a bit disappointed, felt delightfully superior as she replied loftily, "It isn't so bad. We don't mind, you know, because we're so interested in the work."
 
They all stood around on the sloppy floor of the clay room as she undid the moist wrappings of her half-finished head. As the cloths were laid aside, there was a disheartening silence.
 
"It looks sort of whopper-jawed, doesn't it, Miss Pat?" asked David, hesitating. "I can see it's going to be a stunner when it's done, but I guess I'm weak on sculpture anyway. I can't understand it in the green stage."
 
"It looks like a foreigner, all right," ventured Tom Hughes, and was rewarded for his courage by a flash of passionate gratitude from Patricia's big gray eyes.
 
"He's a Russian refugee," she said, triumphantly, and as she quickly covered her work again, and they passed out through the little side entrance, she told them the tragic scrap of the model's history that had sifted through the gossip of the work room.
 
"I see why Judy is so keen on the fine arts just now," teased David as he dropped into step again. "Lots of material for current fiction, eh, Ju?"
 
But Judith maintained a discreet silence, and David and Patricia fell into talk of school and study till the door of the great hotel swung wide to admit their little party.
 
"I say, this is fine!" declared David, as he looked about him in the palm-shaded, pink and gold dining-room. "Beats our refectory at the Prep, doesn't it, Tommy old boy?"
 
Hughes made a careful inventory of the delicate china and sparkling silver before he delivered himself.
 
"I haven't had a sample of the food yet," he said, gravely, "but if it comes up to the equipment, I'll be perfectly satisfied."
 
Patricia and Elinor, who, with Judith, had put on their best for the little spree, were in the highest spirits and were delighted with everything, remembering many of the chief features of the room and pointing them out to each other until David protested.
 
"I say, you needn't rub it in that Tom and I are greenhorns," he said, grinning. "Don't forget that once you were quite as unaccustomed to all this magnificence as we are now."
 
"Listen to him!" exclaimed Patricia, gayly. "He's been abroad for months in all sorts of grandeur, and he pretends——"
 
She broke off suddenly at the swift remembrance of that futile search for health that had led the gentle Mrs. Carson to her grave in far-away Florence. She caught his hand under the table in a quick squeeze, while Elinor hurried into comparisons that claimed Judith's and Tom's close attention.
 
"I'm a horrid pig to forget," she whispered contritely. "Don't be cross, Frad dear; you know how sorry I am."
 
David gave an answering squeeze that brought the tears to her eyes, as he whispered in return, "That's all right, old lady. Don't you fret about me."
 
He dropped her hand at the obsequious voice of the waiter at his elbow.
 
"Do you wish to order, sir?"
 
After the man had gone, Patricia, who had flushed, suddenly giggled. "Did you see him looking at us, Frad?" she asked, in an undertone. "He thought he'd caught us holding hands, like regular grown-up spoons!"
 
"Stuff and nonsense!" growled David, hotly. "He'd know better than that."
 
Nevertheless, in spite of his protest, David took great care to behave with the utmost frigidity to Patricia whenever the smiling waiter made his appearance, and instead lavished his care on Judith, who took on airs of importance that were delightful to behold.
 
"We caught our first view of Bruce Haydon here—remember, Norn?" said Patricia, happily consuming her entrée. "Wouldn't it be fun if we'd run across someone else this time?"
 
"I don't think so," said David resolutely. "We haven't such a lot of time to be together that we need anyone else butting in. I'm satisfied as we are."
 
"You must have had a thought wave, Miss Patricia," said Tom Hughes. "The unexpected friend is here all right."
 
The girls swept a puzzled glance around the room, but could discern no familiar face among the gay groups at the many little tables. David, however, gave an exclamation, and half rose in his chair.
 
"Sure enough, Tommy. It's Hilton to the very life. Don't you see him, Pat, coming in with that head waiter? Do you mind if we ask him to join us, Elinor? He's coming right this way. He's English Lit., and a dandy fellow, if he is a teacher."
 
Elinor gave a hasty assent, but Patricia was ardent.
 
"Oh, do ask him, David," she urged, taking in the attractive athletic figure with its wholesome self-reliant air. "He looks awfully nice."
 
"He's all of that. He's the youngest professor in the school and no end a good fellow," supplemented Tom Hughes, heartily.
 
David half rose again, and signaled to attract the other's attention, and when Mr. Hilton saw who was hailing him, a pleased smile ran over his face and he strode forward with outstretched hand.
 
"Well, this is luck!" he began, but paused, seeing the girls. "I'm in for a bit of lunch before the matinee, and I can only say 'howdy.' Going to take in the miracle play at the Globe,—finest thing in town, they say. See you later, perhaps," and he bowed to them all, vaguely including the three girls in his kindly glance.
 
"Not much you won't!" cried David. "You're going to have lunch with us—we've only just begun. I want you to meet my sisters. That is, if you haven't any other engagement," and here he snickered, for there was a rumor current in the Prep that Hilton was secretly devoted to some unknown charmer.
 
The insinuation fell harmless, as far as the young professor was concerned.
 
"I shall be delighted, if you'll be so good as to let me," he said gratefully, with his sincere gaze on the festive group about the dainty table. "I've heard of your good luck in finding your family, and am very glad to meet them."
 
A chair was brought and another luncheon ordered, and soon they were chattering as gayly as though they had all known each other for ages. Elinor inquired for Mr. Lindley, who by chance had been Mr. Hilton's room-mate at college, and heard that he was in France on his belated honeymoon.
 
"He expected to be married last fall, but there was a hitch in getting out his book," said Mr. Hilton, as he finished his salad. "So he couldn't get away till last month."
 
"We had a great interest in that book," said Elinor smiling, "for he was compiling it when he boarded with us last summer. I'm glad to hear it is out at last. We'll have to get a copy of it, for old times' sake."
 
Tom Hughes, who had been surreptitiously glancing at his watch beneath the table cover, spoke reluctantly.
 
"If you people don't want to miss the first act, we'll have to be toddling," he said. "It's about five minutes after two."
 
"Where are you going, Kendall?" asked Mr. Hilton as they pushed back their chairs, and stood waiting for the last button on Judith's glove to come to terms. "If you haven't settled on anything special, I'd like to have you all see the new play with me. It's said to be the finest thing in America, and I'm sure your sisters would enjoy it."
 
David acquiesced, as far as the play was concerned. "But you are not going to take us," he said firmly. "This is my spree and I can't let any other fellow butt in. We'll get seats together, and have a bully time, if you're willing to go with us. Come, Judy, we'll hustle on ahead and secure the seats, while these elderly folks stroll after us at their leisure."
 
Patricia found Tom Hughes a very agreeable companion on the walk to the theater, and they discussed tennis and swimming with an ardor that was most exhilarating, while Elinor and Mr. Hilton kept up as best they could among the holiday crowds to the brisk pace that they maintained in the lead.
 
The play was all that had been promised and they sat through its mystic-scenes with rapt attention, comparing notes enthusiastically in the intervals when the curtain was down, and when it was over they came out into the daylight with that peculiar sensation of unreality in the daylight world that follows an enthralling matinee.
 
"Don't the people seem funny-looking?" said Judith, blinking at the gayly dressed crush at the theater entrance. "They all seem like actors in a play, with the twinkly electric lights and the streaky yellow sunset behind those big buildings."
 
They paused a moment on the corner for a look at the twilit streets with their white pulsing points of electric lamps flickering above the hurrying crowds, while behind the sky line, with its towers and minarets and huge squares of office buildings, the clear topaz of the winter sunset surged upward in the dimming turquoise sky.
 
"There's a picture for you, Elinor," said David, pointing to the beautiful serrated mass of the great buildings looming misty-blue against the gold. "Can't you remember that, and put it on canvas when you get home?"
 
Elinor made no reply. Her eyes were fixed on the lovely fading panorama of life that was shifting before them. The twilight, the sunset, and the haunting magic of the miracle play still lingering with them, touched them all into sudden seriousness, and they stood silent and intent, forgetful of the whirl of pleasure and traffic that swept about them.
 
"See how the sunset catches on the big cross on the tower!" said Patricia softly. "It's the only thing up there in the sky that answers the sun's signaling."
 
"'Light answering to light,'" quoted Mr. Hilton, and Patricia flashed an eager glance of appreciation at his earnest face.
 
After the young men had waved their last farewells from the car windows and the train had puffed its way out of the great arching dome, Patricia spoke her mind with her usual frankness.
 
"Tom Hughes is an awfully nice boy," she said, slipping a hand into Judith's and Elinor's arm, as they paced the platform, waiting for Miss Jinny's train. "But for pure, sheer adorableness, give me Mr. Hilton, every time. Don't you think he's a perfect duck, Elinor?"
 
Elinor laughed easily. "He seems to be very pleasant and he certainly is popular with the boys," she admitted, "but I must say I like Tommy Hughes immensely."
 
"Which have you selected for your future partner, Judy?" teased Patricia, turning to her little sister. "I saw your speculative eye upon them, and I knew you were weighing them well. Which is it to be—Tommy or the Prof?"
 
"I'm getting too old to be treated like such a baby, Miss Pat," said Judith with great dignity. "I wish you wouldn't be so silly! How could I marry an old person like Mr. Hilton, anyway?"
 
"Then it's Tom," cried Patricia delightedly. "I wonder if he'll mind being tagged. Shall you tell him his fate soon, Ju, or let him gradually waken to it?"
 
Judith merely pursed her lips and tossed her head. "Don't you think the train must be late?" she said to Elinor. "I do hope you can stay till Miss Jinny gets here."
 
"I have to leave in just five minutes," said Elinor, glancing at the big illuminated clock face. "I can't be late for criticism in the night life, you know."
 
They paced for a minute or two in silence, and then Patricia gave a little sigh.
 
"Haven't we had a gorgeous time?" she said, thoughtfully. "I didn't realize that we could enjoy ourselves so much for such a long time. It's been a whole month now, and getting nicer every day. We've been always so pinched that it seems almost wicked to be so careless about spending money, doesn't it, Norn?"
 
"I don't feel that way," said Elinor gratefully. "I'm thankful every minute of the day for the happiness we have, and I feel that it has come to us from the same Lord that made the world full of beauty and joy."
 
Patricia gave her arm a quick squeeze. "If we weren't on a public platform, I'd kiss you for that, Elinor Kendall," she said, ardently. "You make things so comfortable for me."
 
"We don't waste anything, anyway, and we do all we can to be nice to other people," said Judith, seriously. "And that ought to count, oughtn't it?"
 
"Like a charm to keep off ghosts," laughed Patricia. "Perhaps we ought to cross our fingers, Ju, when we remember to. That might help, too."
 
But Judith was not attending. Her eyes were fixed on the far side of the great station.
 
"Why, there she is!" she cried in surprise. "She must have come in on the wrong track! She's looking all around for us. Do hurry, Elinor! I'll run on ahead and tell her you're coming."