"Good for you, you faithful Achates!" said Lanse. Then he turned to his
father. "You haven't told us yet when you go, sir."

"If we can, two weeks from to-day," said Mr. Birch. Then he went
up-stairs to tell his wife that she might go peacefully to sleep, for
her children were ready to become her devoted slaves. Justin followed
Jeff out of the room, and Jeff broke away from this younger brother and
hastened to rap a familiar, comforting signal of comradeship on
Charlotte's locked door.

Left alone, Lanse and Celia looked at each other.

"Well, old girl--" began Lansing, gently.

"O Lanse!" breathed Celia.

He patted her shoulder. "Bear up, dear. It's tough to give up college
for a year--"

"Oh, _that's_ not it!" cried the girl, and buried her face in a sofa
pillow.

"No, that's not it," he answered, under his breath. He shook his
shoulders and walked away to the fire, stood staring down into it for a
minute with sober eyes, then drew a long breath and came back to his
sister.

"It's a relief that there's something we can do to help her get well,"
he said, slowly. "And she will get well, Celia--she will--_she must_!"