Lucile Triumphant Part 2

"Oh, he's got a letter," cried Lucile, as Phil took a flying leap into their midst.

"Say," said Phil, eyeing them pityingly, "don't you fellows know it's time to eat?"

"It's never dinner-time yet," said Jessie in dismay.

"Yes it is, too," Evelyn contradicted. "Just look where the sun is."

"Where is it?" cried Phil, and then, as his gaze wandered to the sky, he added, with an air of relief, "Oh, it's still there; how you frightened me!"

"Goose!" his sister commented, and then, looking at the envelope he still held in his hand, she added, "Who's the letter from? Be sensible and tell us about it."

"Oh, that?" said Phil. "That's a letter from Jim. Seems to be getting along first rate."

"What does he say?" asked Jessie, all interest.

Phil eyed her speculatively. "I tell you what I'll do," he said. "I'll tell you about it on the way home."

The girls laughed and Lucile explained, "You see, he's never happy far from home and dinner."

"You seemed to get away with a mighty generous supply of oysters yourself the other night," Phil grumbled good-naturedly.

"Well, if I did, I was only obeying the camp-fire law, 'Be healthy,'"

Lucile defended warmly.

The girls laughed and Jessie murmured something about, "That's right; keep 'em under."

"What's that?" Phil demanded, but Jessie evaded with another question:

"When are you going to tell us about Jim?"

"Here we are, half the way home, and you haven't even begun," Evelyn added.

"Well, he seems more than satisfied with his engineering, and most of his letter is taken up with praises of Mr. Wescott and his wife and how good they are to him. He says the luck he's had almost makes him believe in fate."

"Well, there certainly did seem to be a fate in the way young Mr. Wescott just happened up to camp in the nick of time to find our guardian and fall in love with her, worse luck," and Lucile vindictively kicked a stone from the path as though it were the meddling Mr. Wescott himself.

"And then to think he should like Jim, a poor little country boy, well enough to take him along with him to the city, where he could make something of himself."

"Well, all I have to say is that there's no one I'd rather see get along than Jim. I liked him the first minute I saw him, and he sure does improve on acquaintance--the longer you know him, the more you like him.

He deserves everything he gets," and Phil's face glowed with boyish enthusiasm.

"That's the way we all felt," said Lucile with equal earnestness, while Evelyn could not repress a chuckle at the memory of their first meeting with Jim. "Has he anything else to say?"

"Only one thing," answered Phil, mysteriously.

"What is it?" the girls demanded in chorus.

"Hurry up, please, Phil," Jessie pleaded.

"Certainly, anything for you," Phil returned gallantly. "Why, he just states that Mr. and Mrs. Wescott----"

"Miss Howland!" cried Evelyn.

"Miss Howland that was," corrected Phil; "Mrs. Wescott that is."

"What difference does it make?" cried Lucile, impatiently. "What about her--is she sick?"

At the suggestion the girls grew pale.

"Not quite as bad as that," teased Phil, enjoying the sensation his news was making and bent on prolonging it to the last extreme.

"Not quite? Oh, Phil, what do you mean?" cried Jessie, imploringly.

Anxiety and alarm showed so plainly on the girls' white faces that Phil suddenly relented.

"Don't get scared," he continued, elegantly. "Your guardian isn't sick.

If she were, I guess she wouldn't be making plans for visiting Burleigh."

"Is that the truth?" Lucile demanded, seizing her brother's arm. "Don't play any more tricks, Phil," she pleaded. "It means an awful lot to us, you know, if Miss--Mrs. Wescott is coming."

"Oh, that's on the level all right," Phil answered with evident sincerity. "She just made up her mind a little while ago and Jim thinks she will probably write to you girls about it."

"Oh, just think, we are really going to see her again after six months,"

Jessie exclaimed, joyfully.

"And we'll give her a reception she will never forget," Lucile decided.

"All right; I'm with you," Phil shouted, and was off to join a crowd of the fellows on the other side of the street.

"Don't forget we eat soon," Lucile called after him.

"Such a chance," he flung back. "Bet I'll be there before you will."

"He thinks we're going to talk for another couple of hours," Jessie interpreted.

"No, we'd better do our talking to-morrow. Tell you what we'll do--I have--an idea," cried Lucile.

"Bright child, tell us about it," said Evelyn.

"Suppose we call a special camp-fire meeting to-morrow morning to talk over plans for Miss Howland's--I mean Mrs. Wescott's reception."

"Fine--but who will let them know?"

"Come over to-night, both of you, and we can 'phone them from here."

"All right, we'll do that, Lucy," agreed Evelyn. "We'll see you about eight o'clock, then."

"Better run, Lucy," warned Jessie, with a backward glance over her shoulder. "Phil will beat you in if you don't hurry--he's coming full tilt."