"Well, don't send any live rattlesnakes or Gila monsters in the mail.
They might starve on the way."
"I'd rather they'd starve on the way than reach here alive," said
Marjorie, with a little shudder.
"Do they have those things where you're going, Glad?"
"I don't know. Isn't it strange to be going to live in a place that you don't know anything about?"
"It's strange to have you live anywhere but in Rockwell," said Marjorie, and Gladys squeezed her hand under the table.
But at last the time came for the real farewells.
"Cut it short," cried Mr. Maynard, gaily, though there was a lump in his own throat as Gladys and Marjorie threw their arms about each other's neck for the last time.
The Fultons were to leave very early the next morning, and the girls would not meet again.
Both were sobbing, and Dick and Kingdon stood by, truly distressed at their sisters' grief.
"Come, dearie, let Gladys go now," said Mrs. Maynard, for knowing
Marjorie's excitable nature, she feared these paroxysms of tears.