"Oh, I don't know, Dick. I am not quite clear about it. If you did I am deeply indebted," and she turns a shy soft glance toward her lover.
"It was your humble servant. Now, there is a most appropriate way in which you may reward me," and Dick holds a sprig of mistletoe high above his head.
"No, no. What nonsense," protests Jean.
"You may," smiles Farr.
"But I don't want to," she laughs saucily.
"Poor Dick," exclaims Mollie sorrowfully, and she jumps up from the table to give him a sisterly hug and a kiss. "I declare it is a shame. I shan't see you so neglected."
"Thank you, my dear," returns Dick, with a grin, "that isn't quite the same, but it is very sweet."
"Oh, dear," sighs Nan, as they push back their chairs, and wander into the drawing-room, "how queer it seems to have Helen and Jean engaged. It is all very amusing now, but what will become of us next summer. I am afraid our compact is about at an end."
Cliff, who is standing near Eleanor, bends down to whisper something to her, and then pushes her gently into the middle of the room. She faces the group before her with flaming cheeks, and looks about her helplessly.
"Girls, I suppose I must confess. I, too, am a traitor to our compact."