It was decided that Mrs. Camp should start on her trip before the other
girls arrived. Hence, on the morning of the day they had set to come,
the little old woman and her bags and bundles rode away down the dusty
country road. Her lean, brown, crumpled old face had an exalted
expression; the joy of anticipation and the triumph of patient waiting
met in it and blended oddly. It was a great day for Emmeline Camp.

"Good-by, deary. Keep right on rubbing, and don't go to walking 'round.
There's some cookies left in the cooky-crock, and a pie or two on the
shelf to kind of set you going. Take good care o' yourselves."

"And Amelia," whispered the girl, drawing the old face down to her.
"We'll take good care of Amelia."

It was a little lonely after the old stage rumbled away. The Talented
One turned whimsically to Amelia for company. She tried to imagine her,
as the little old woman did, but in vain. She could not conjure up the
sweet, elusive face, the hair, the eyes, the grave little mouth of
Amelia. The little old woman had taken away with her love, the key. She
must have taken Amelia away with her, too, the girl thought, smiling at
her own fancy. So, for company, she must wait until Loraine and Billy
and Laura Ann came, on the further edge of the day. She lay in the cool
grass, and made beatific plans for all the long, lazy days to come. No
hurrying, or worrying--each one for herself, happy in her own way. Only
themselves to think of for the space of a golden summer!

"I am glad she took Amelia," the girl in the grass laughed softly.
"We'd never be able to keep to the Compact with Amelia 'round--Amelia
would never have signed a 'Wicked Compact'!" Which, in the event of