Chris hastened in, to be met by her young brother, who was evidently in a state of great excitement.

“Hurry up, I say!” he repeated.  “My word, what a guy you look!  We’ve just had a wire from Jack.  He will be in Paris this evening, and we are to meet him there.  We have got to catch the Paris express at Rennes, and the train leaves here in two hours.”

This was news indeed.  Chris found herself plunged forthwith into such a turmoil of preparation as drove all thought of the morning’s events from her mind.

Her brothers were overjoyed at the prospect of immediate departure; Mademoiselle was scarcely less so; and Chris herself, infected by the general atmosphere of satisfaction, entered into the fun of the thing with a spirit fully equal to the occasion.  The scramble to be ready was such that not one of the party stopped to breathe during those two hours.  They bolted refreshments while they packed, talking at the tops of their voices, and thoroughly enjoying the unwonted excitement.  Mademoiselle was more nearly genial than Chris had ever seen her.  She did not even scold her for taking an early dip.  At the time Chris was too busy to wonder at her forbearance; but she discovered the reason later, without the preliminary of wondering, when she came to know that it was Mademoiselle’s urgent representations at headquarters regarding her own delinquencies that had impelled this sudden summons.

The thought of meeting her cousin added zest to the situation.  Though ten years her senior, Jack Forest had long been the best chum she had—­he was best chum to a good many people.

Only when by strenuous effort they had managed to catch the one and only train that could land them at Rennes in time for the Paris express, only when the cliffs and the dear blue shore where she had idled so many hours away were finally and completely left behind, did a sudden stab of realization pierce Chris, while the quick words that her playmate of the beach had uttered only that morning flashed torch-like through her brain.

Then and only then did she remember him, her preux chevalier, her faithful friend and comrade, whose name she had never heard, whom she had left without word or thought of farewell.

So crushing was her sense of loss, that for a few seconds she lost touch with her surroundings, and sat dazed, white-faced, stricken, not so much as asking herself what could be done.  Then one of the boys shouted to her to come and look at something they were passing, and with an effort she jerked herself back to normal things.

Having recovered her balance, she managed to maintain a certain show of indifference during the hours that followed, but she looked back upon that journey to Paris later as one looks back upon a nightmare.  It was her first acquaintance with suffering in any form.

Jack Forest, big, square, and reliable, was waiting for them at the terminus.