"Good. Then I'll write to my friend."
"You're writing now!" chuckled Marjorie, for Chrissie had been scribbling idly on the blotting-paper while she talked. "Look what you've put, you goose! 'Christine Lange!' Don't you know how to spell your own name? I didn't think it had an e at the end of it!"
Chrissie flushed scarlet. For a moment she looked overwhelmed with confusion; then, recovering herself, she forced a laugh.
"What an idiot I am! I can't imagine why I should stick on an extra e. Lang is a good old Scottish name."
"Are you related to Andrew Lang, the famous author?"
"I believe there's a family connection."
The charades were to be held on the evening of the next Wednesday, after supper, which was fixed half an hour earlier to allow sufficient time for the festivities afterwards. That afternoon would be Marjorie's and Dona's last exeat before the holidays, and they were determined to make the most of it. They would, of course, visit Leonard and Larry, and they also wished if possible to say good-bye to Eric. They had begged Elaine to leave a note at the kiosk, asking him to be waiting at their old trysting-place on the cliffs at five o'clock, and they meant to take him some last little presents. If they did not see him to-day it would be the end of September before they could meet again.
"He'll miss the fairy ladies when we've gone home," said Dona. "Sweet darling! I wish we could take him with us!"
"I wonder if he ever goes away?" speculated Marjorie.
"I shouldn't think he'd be strong enough to travel."