“‘A strange young lady just went in there and she had on the prettiest spring suit. It’s the very latest style. I wonder who—’ Betsy said no more for the office door was opening. The strange young lady appeared with her back toward us, but suddenly she turned, and if it wasn’t our very own Miss Pickle. She had on the prettiest grey suit and a grey tulle hat trimmed with crushed pink roses.
“I’m afraid we stared our astonishment, but luckily the bus arrived just then and so we went out and climbed in. Miss Piqulin was with Patrick on the front seat but she smiled at us over her shoulder. We sat there in two rows as solemn as though we were at a funeral.
“‘Girls,’ Miss Pickle said, ‘have a happy time; laugh and chatter all you want to.’
“Megsy, did you ever suppose the day would dawn when Miss Pickle would say that? Well, anyway, she did, so we started to sing a school song when suddenly Betsy Closson held up one hand and said, ‘Hark! Don’t you hear bugles?’
“‘Look! Look!’” Jenny Clark was pointing back at the bend in the road. ‘There comes a carryall and it’s filled with boys from the Drexel Military Academy. Don’t they look nice in their dress uniforms?’
“‘That jolly young Professor Pixley is with them,’ Flora Wells added. Miss Piqulin heard this and her cheeks became as pink as the roses on her hat. The mystery was solved. Miss Pickle is in love!
“Well, to make a long story short, the carryall dashed up and both vehicles stopped while greetings were exchanged. When Prof. Pixley heard that we were to spend the day in town, he asked us to join them at a theater party at two in the afternoon. Weren’t we girls excited and delighted, and what a fine time we did have! I sat next to such a nice boy and Virg, how pleased I was when he said that his home is in Arizona. His name is Benjamin Wilson. Have you ever heard of him?
“That was a whole lot of excitement for boarding school girls all in one day, wasn’t it Megsy? Nor was that all, for when I reached my room that night, I found a birthday box from China. In it was a pale blue silk kimono embroidered with pink cherry blossoms and slippers to match. It was from my dear brother Peyton. He has never missed giving me something on my birthday. Now that I know where he is, I am so happy and content.
“Farewell for now. Your Babs.”
“Then after all our Tom isn’t Peyton Wente,” Margaret said as they started walking toward the V. M. Ranch.