It was a merry party which entered the dining-car the next morning the moment the first summons came.  The day had risen bright and clear as a June day could be, and everybody was in a hurry to get out on the observation platform.

Doctor Forester, sitting opposite Charlotte and Andy at one table, glanced across at the rest of the party, on the opposite side of the car, and said in a low voice: 

“This is literally a case of speeding the parting guest, isn’t it?  Captain John Rayburn got you into something of a scrape when he sent you that copper inscription over your fireplace, didn’t he?  He didn’t realise that the ‘ornaments’ it brought you in November would have to be conveyed away by force in June.  It was the only way to give you an interval when you should, for the first time in the history of your married life, have no guests at all.”

Charlotte and Andrew were staring at him in amazement.

“Uncle Ray?” cried Charlotte, under her breath.  “Was he the one?  Did you know it all the time, Doctor Forester?”

“Yes, I knew it all the time” he owned.  “In fact, Captain Rayburn wrote to me after he had heard of the fireplace.  You sent him a photograph of it, didn’t you?”

“So we did,” Doctor Churchill answered.  “We took it the day the fireplace was finished, I’d forgotten it completely, but I remember now.  We thought he’d be interested, because something he once said about the ideal fireplace had put the idea into our heads of collecting the stones ourselves.  So he wrote all the way from Denmark to have that made?”

“He had it made there, and wrote me for the measurements.  He expressed it to me, and I repacked it and sent it to you,” chuckled Doctor Forester.  “He was determined to puzzle you completely.”

“He certainly succeeded.  Did he give you leave to tell at this particular date?”

“It was left to my discretion after the first six months, provided you had had any guests.  I thought the time was ripe, and you’d earned your diploma.  All that worries me is that you may find a fresh instalment of ornaments when you get back.  The motto strikes me as a sort of uncanny provider of them.”  The others laughed.  Charlotte glanced across at Evelyn.

“It has paid,” she said softly.  Andy nodded.  “It certainly has.  All the thanks we shall need will be in Thorne Lee’s letter, after he has seen his little sister.”

“I rather think it’s paid with the others, too,” Doctor Forester added.  “Anyhow, you’ve certainly done your part.”

Out on the back of the train Charlotte found Lucy at her elbow.  She looked into the girl’s face, and discovered the blue eyes to be full of tears.  “Why, Lu, dear!” she said, softly.

“Mrs. Churchill”—­Lucy was almost crying—­“I just can’t bear to think it’s the last day!  I wish—­oh, I wish—­I lived with you!”

“Do you, dear?  That’s very pleasant,” and Charlotte drew her close, feeling more warmth toward Lucy than the girl had yet inspired.  “But don’t be blue.”