"Oh, yes!" Ingred's voice was a little strained.

"You'll be so glad to be living there again," continued Avis. "I always
envied you that lovely house. You must have hated lending it as a
hospital. I expect when you're back you'll be giving all sorts of
delightful parties, won't you? At least that's what the girls at school
were saying."

"It's rather early to make plans," temporized Ingred.

"Oh, of course! But Jess and Francie said you'd a gorgeous floor for
dancing. I do think a fancy-dress dance is about the best fun on earth.
The next time I get an invitation, I'm going as a Quaker maiden, in a
gray dress and the duckiest little white cap. Don't you think it would
suit me? With your dark hair you ought to be something Eastern. I can
just imagine you acting hostess in a shimmery sort of white-and-gold
costume. _Do_ promise to wear white-and-gold!"

"All right," laughed Ingred.

"It's so delightful that the war's over, and we can begin to have
parties again, like we used to do. Beatrice Jackson told me she should
never forget that Carnival dance she went to at Rotherwood five years
ago, and all the lanterns and fairy lamps. Some of the other girls talk
about it yet. Hullo, that's the gong! Come indoors, and we'll have tea."

Ingred was very quiet as she went back in the sidecar that evening,
though Hereward, sitting on the luggage-carrier, was in high spirits,
and fired off jokes at her the whole time. The fact was she was thinking