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“But they look so,” insisted Lilian. “Have they named the place, Mickey?”

“No, m’am, not as I know of,” replied Mickey.

“I’ll write it up, then, for the Greycliff Star,” said Lilian who, as chief editor this year was always looking for “copy,”—“and call it ‘White Wings,’ and perhaps the name will stick to it.”

Carefully the Greycliff was docked and the girls helped carry the lunch ashore, hurrying toward a pretty little summer house which Mickey pointed out to them. It stood back among the trees and was screened, with a floor and picnic tables.

“Hurrah!” exclaimed Betty, “no mosquitoes or bugs at our meals. Blessings on the Greycliff trustees!”

“Let’s ask Miss Perin about it,” suggested Hilary. “She did not look the least bit surprised when Mickey was telling about it, and has probably heard all about it at faculty meeting.”

“All right,” replied Betty,—“isn’t it the funniest thing not to have Miss West for chaperone? We always used to ask for her. I had the shock of my life not to find her here.”