Polly and Lois were busily packing their suitcases, while Betty and Angela stood by and offered suggestions. They were leaving on the afternoon train for Cambridge to attend the Junior Prom. Bob and Jim had finally prevailed upon Mrs. Farwell to let them come. Barring the party at Fanny’s this was their first big dance, and they were both frankly excited about it.

“What time does your mother get here?” Betty asked. “Is she coming up to school?”

“No; we’re going to meet her at the Junction, where we change for the Boston train,” Lois replied.

“Oh, I’m sorry; I hoped I was going to see her.” Betty was very fond of Mrs. Farwell.

“She’ll be here for Commencement,” Polly said, “so will Uncle Roddy; he’s crazy to see you again. And this summer we’re going to have a big house party, Ange. You’ve got to come this time with Bet.”

“I’d love it, if you won’t insist on my breaking in colts, and Look out, Lo! if you don’t wrap up those slippers in tissue paper they’ll be all scratched

“I haven’t any tissue paper; won’t a towel do?”

“Yes; here, I’ll throw you one.”

“Mercy! I almost forgot my silk stockings,” Polly exclaimed. “Get them out of my bottom drawer for me, will you, Bet, like an angel?”

Betty hunted in the drawer. “They’re not here.”

“Then look on the closet shelf.”

“Here they are. Mercy, aren’t they beauties! butterflies embroidered on them!” Betty drew one on over her hand and admired it.

“That’s Lo’s taste,” Polly said. “She gave them to me for Christmas. There, I think that’s everything.” She surveyed her neatly packed bag. “I do hope my dress won’t be wrinkled.”

“What are you going to wear for an evening coat?” Angela inquired.

“Our capes,” Lois answered.

“You’ll freeze to death, and the hoods will crush your hair.”

“Well, what will we do?” Lois asked. “Wear veils?”

Angela considered a minute, and then left the room to return with a long scarf of maline over her arm.

“Here, take this, one of you; wait till we decide which one it’s the more becoming to.” She put it around Polly’s neck and drew part of it up over her hair.

“Very sweet, but,” Betty said, “try it on, Lo.”

“Perfect! you get it,” she said, as they viewed the effect, and certainly the soft, flimsy tulle did make a charming background for Lois’ delicate beauty.

“Polly, you need something more severe,” Angela said.

“I’ve a wonderful Roman scarf; it’s all lovely pale shades. I’ll get it; wait a shake,” Betty offered. “There you are,” she said, triumphantly, when she had pulled it tightly around Polly’s head. “You look Italian; all you need is a pitcher on your shoulder.”

“It might interfere with my dancing,” Polly laughed. “Thanks, ever so much, Betty dear; I’ll lend you my butterfly stockings when you go up to West Point.”

“Then, don’t you dare dance holes in them,” Betty warned. “Perhaps you’d better not dance at all; it might be safer,” she added.

“Just find a nice comfortable chair and sit in it and keep your feet off the floor,” Angela suggested. “Then, if any one asks you to dance, why, tell them that you’d like to but Betty says you mustn’t.”

“I’ve taken enough clothes for a month.” Lois looked despairingly at her bag. “Sit on it, will you, Bet?” Together they closed it and Lois locked it as a precaution against its flying open.

“It’s nearly time to start.” Polly consulted her watch. “I’m so excited my heart’s in my mouth.”

“There’s your carriage; it’s waiting,” Angela said, looking out of the window. “You’d better hurry. Here, I’ll take one bag.” Betty took the other, while Polly and Lois tried frantically to pull on their gloves.

“Be sure and remember everything,” Betty said, as they ran downstairs, “so you can tell me how to act next week.”

“We will,” Polly promised.

They met Mrs. Farwell an hour later and took the train for Boston.

“I had a letter from Bob this morning,” she told them. “He says that he will not be able to see us until luncheon time to-morrow; he’s awfully busy, I suppose.”

“Maybe he’s trying to find partners for us,” Lois laughed, “and he’s not finding it easy.”

Polly groaned: “Oh, Aunt Kate,” she said, “suppose we have to sit out half the dances.”

Mrs. Farwell laughed.

“I wouldn’t worry about it, if I were you,” she said, confidently; “you can trust Bob to see to that.”

The next day, Jim and Bob joined them at luncheon, at one o’clock.

“Why didn’t you meet us yesterday?” Lois demanded when they were seated at the table.

“Couldn’t do it,” Bob told her.

“But we’re at your service this afternoon,” Jim added. “What do you want to do?”

“Why don’t you just sit and talk, up in our sitting-room,” Mrs. Farwell suggested. “If you do anything else the girls will be tired out for the dance.”

“What, and waste all the beautiful afternoon? Oh, mother!” Bob objected. “Besides,” he added, winking at Jim, “if we sit and talk, as you suggest, the girls will be tired. You know Lois?”

“Oh, Bobby, aren’t you mean?” Lois said. “I don’t talk nearly as much as you do.”

“How about taking a ride in my car?” Jim suggested. “It’s a warm day.”

“Oh, Jim!” Mrs. Farwell said, “I’m afraid to let them.”

“But you come, too,” Jim urged. “We could all crowd in.”

Mrs. Farwell shook her head.

“No; I must rest; my head really aches,” she said.

“Then, let us go,” Bob teased. “Just for a short ride. You’ll hurt Jim’s feelings if you don’t; he’s awfully proud of Pegasus.”

“Pegasus? Is that the name of the car?” Mrs. Farwell laughed. “Well ” she hesitated.

“We’ll promise not to go one bit faster than thirty miles an hour,” Jim assured her.

“And I’ll blow the horn all the way, mother darling,” Lois added. “I hope it’s a nice, noisy Claxon? Is it, Jim?”

“Better than that,” he told her, “it has three notes, and you can play a tune on it.”

“May we go, Aunt Kate?” Polly asked, anxiously. “We really will be careful.”

Mrs. Farwell looked from one to the other.

“Yes,” she said, slowly, “but you must be back by four o’clock.”

“Oh, mother; make it five,” Bob teased.

“No; four o’clock.” Mrs. Farwell was determined. “The girls must rest.”

Jim left to get his car. In less than half an hour they heard his horn blow.

“He’s here; hurry up,” Bob said. “Don’t make him stop the engine.”

Mrs. Farwell pulled the girls’ furs up close about their necks and went down to see them off.

“Now, do be careful,” she said, earnestly. “Remember, Jim, no fast driving.”

“Not even if I see a fine road ahead with no cars in sight,” he promised her solemnly.

“And that means a whole lot for Jim,” Bob explained. “He’s rather proud of his driving, mother, and it’s an awful disappointment to him when he can’t show off.”

“Nonsense; I don’t believe it,” she called after them; “I know he’ll be careful.”

The car, or “Pegasus,” to give it its proper title, was long and gray and shaped like a boat. It was really a roadster, but a small seat opened up in the back to accommodate two people.

Bob and Polly climbed into it, and Lois took her place beside Jim. They drove slowly through the city.

“Where to?” Jim inquired.

“Anywhere,” Lois said, “as long as we go. Isn’t this air wonderful? Why, it’s like spring.”

Jim headed the car in the direction of Salem and the speedometer registered thirty miles.

“Why didn’t you promise mother not to go over forty miles an hour?” Lois asked.

“Because I knew she wouldn’t let us go,” Jim replied. “Isn’t this fast enough for you?”

Lois looked up at him over her brown furs.

“Do you know,” she said, slowly, “my one ambition is to go sixty miles an hour in a car.”

Jim gasped for a second. He was tempted, but he said: “Sorry I can’t take you.”

“Of course you can’t to-day,” Lois agreed. “But will you some time?”

“You bet,” Jim promised, enthusiastically. “Bob’s asked me to visit him this summer, you know,” he added; “maybe we can try it then. Would you like to drive?” he asked when they were well out of the city.

“I don’t know how,” Lois said, sorrowfully.

“Well, I’ll teach you.” Jim stopped the car.

“What’s the matter?’ Bob called.

“Nothing,” Jim said, “I’m going to let Lois drive; that’s all.”

“Oh, Jim, have pity on us!” Polly begged; “we do want to go to the dance to-night.”

“Don’t worry,” he answered, “you’ll get there.”

“Now,” he said to Lois, when they had changed places, “push that back; it’s the brake, and you want to release it. There, now put your foot on that; that feeds gas in the engine. No, do it gently,” he said, as the car jerked forward.

Lois’ face was set in firm determination, and she obeyed instructions without a word. After she had stalled the car several times, and Bob had gotten out to crank it, she finally started.

A motor van coming towards them made her almost run into a ditch. But Jim took the wheel in time.

“You know, you don’t have to climb trees and fences, Lo,” Bob teased; “there’s really plenty of room on the road.”

“Oh, but it looked as if it would run right into us!” she exclaimed, shuddering. “Suppose it had taken off one of our wheels?”

“Keep still, Bob,” Jim directed. “Don’t talk to the chauffeur.”

They drove on for a few miles more and were beginning to consider turning, when the car began to miss and make terrifying noises.

“What’s it doing?” Lois demanded. “Have I broken it?”

Jim laughed heartily. “No,” he said, “change places with me. I’ll fix it.”

But Pegasus refused to be fixed. It went on a little farther, and then stopped.

Jim and Bob got out. They opened the hood. “Nothing wrong here,” Jim said. “I wonder what’s up!”

“I’ll spin it,” Bob suggested. They worked for nearly fifteen minutes, but the car would not budge.

“I know I did something to it,” Lois turned tearfully to Polly; “now we’ll never get home.”

“Oh, yes we will; we can get some one to pull us, I guess,” Polly comforted her. “Maybe there’s no more gasoline,” she said to Bob.

The boys looked at each other and then burst out laughing. Jim investigated the tank and then took off his hat and bowed respectfully to Polly.

“You are quite right; there is no gas, and I’m a well I’m a very brilliant driver. Will you please tell me how you ever thought of it?”

Polly laughed. “Why, that’s what always happens to Uncle Roddy’s car when he goes out,” she said. “He never remembers the gas. Sometimes he pulls the poor car to pieces before he thinks of it.”

Jim felt comforted.

“Well, I guess I’ll go see what I can do about getting some. Bob, you stay here with the girls.”

“Somebody has to call up Aunt Kate,” Polly reminded them, “we won’t be home by four, and she’ll be worried.”

“Then Bob’s got to do it,” Jim said, decidedly. “I’ll never be able to face her after all my promises.”

“All right!” Bob said. “I see a house down the road.”

“Perhaps they’ll have some gas,” Jim said, hopefully, as they started off.

But it was after seven before they finally got back to the hotel. Jim had had to walk miles before he could get a pail of gasoline, and then on the way back one of the tires had blown out.

Mrs. Farwell was waiting for them in the lobby. She looked thoroughly frightened.

“Children, where have you been?” she asked.

Bob explained.

“We couldn’t get here a second sooner,” he concluded.

“I’m awfully sorry, Mrs. Farwell,” Jim added, apologetically, “I never felt so ashamed in my life; but I really did start with plenty of gas, only the tank leaked,” he finished ruefully.

Mrs. Farwell smiled her forgiveness.

“You’ll have to hurry through dinner, then go and dress,” she said. “Perhaps, after all, the girls aren’t so very tired.”

Polly put her arm around her.

“Tired?” she said, happily, “why, Aunt Kate, I feel as if I could dance all night.”

“So do I, mother darling,” Lois insisted.

“Well, that’s very probably just what you will do,” Mrs. Farwell answered with a resigned sigh.

Bob and Jim, after a very hasty dinner, hurried to their rooms to change their clothes, and were back before either of the girls were ready, for Mrs. Farwell had insisted upon an hour’s rest. When they did join the boys, they were looking their best. They had on the same yellow and green dresses that they had worn at Fanny’s party.

Bob and Jim were secretly delighted. There is always a good-natured rivalry at a Junior Prom and they both felt that the girls’ charming appearance gave them a decided advantage over the other men.

When they arrived at the Union the dance had already started, and the floor was crowded with people. Lois and Polly were so carried away by excitement that the whole evening passed in a whirl of delight.

Mrs. Farwell had been right the day before when she had promised her that Bob would see that they had plenty of partners, for Jim and he brought up all their friends and introduced them.

As Polly said afterward, in answer to Betty’s questions.

“There were so many of them that I couldn’t begin to remember their names. I just called them all Mr. Er

“What was the hall like?” Betty had demanded of Lois.

“Mercy! I don’t remember,” she said, “except that it had two big fireplaces and the most fascinating chandeliers made of deers’ antlers.”

Betty had been disgusted at this hazy description.

It was after two o’clock before they got back to the hotel, and they were both so sleepy that they could hardly thank Bob and Jim for their good time.

As the boys went back to their rooms, Jim said: “Bob, do you think the girls will ever forgive me for this afternoon?”

“Why, of course,” Bob assured him. “They didn’t mind being late. Polly would rather motor than dance any day.”

“H’m!” Jim replied, slowly, “but it happens to be Lois that I’m worrying about.”

“Well, you needn’t,” Bob answered, laughing. “When I was dancing with her to-night, I asked her if she didn’t like you better than she used to, and she said: ‘Oh, lots, Bobby; I think he’s a duck.’”