The tune rang out with a gayer lilt.
“Any way, there are so many good points now that I ought not to think about the others. I’ve all my life wanted to live with Father. Here’s my chance, and I must see only that my wish has come true.”
“You sound very gay over here by yourself,” said James’s voice behind her. “You don’t sound as if you were sorry at all about leaving us.”
“I’m trying to balance things,” Ethel Blue answered. “I lose Ethel Brown and all of you, but I gain Father.”
“You’ll be coming north for your holidays next summer, I suppose. That will be a great old time for the U. S. C.,” he said hopefully.
“It would be simply too fine for words if the U. S. C. could go to Washington for Washington’s Birthday next winter the way it did this winter,” returned Ethel Blue, beaming at him.
“There certainly is every inducement to get up an excursion there now,” said James. “You know we’ve decided on a round robin, don’t you?”
“A round robin? How does it work?”
“Helen and Ethel Brown and the Honorary Member and Dorothy will be here in Rosemont, Margaret will be in Glen Point, Della in New York, you at Fort Myer and we boys at Harvard and Yale and the Boston Tech. Helen is going to start a letter on the first day of each month. She’ll tell us what she’s been doing. Ethel Brown will add on a bit; so will Dicky and Dorothy. It will go to Margaret. She’ll put in a big batch of Glen Point news and send it in town to Della. When she has finished she’ll send it on to Tom at New Haven, and in course of time it will reach Roger and me in Boston and Cambridge and we’ll send it on to you in Washington.”
“That will be perfectly great!” exclaimed Ethel. “You can illustrate it with kodaks, and we’ll all know what every one of us is doing all the time.”