dancing-hall, caught Tom Raymond as he was passing them; and Dora
whispered,--

"Are they the Pelhams,--Agnes's Pelhams?"

"'Agnes's Pelhams'? Oh, oh!" gurgled Tom, nearly choking with suppressed
laughter. Then, "Yes, yes, Agnes's Pelhams; but where is Agnes? She
ought to be here to welcome her Pelhams."

"She's gone to bed with a headache or something. She came in looking
dreadfully a few minutes ago."

"I should think she might; she had had a blow."

"What do you mean? But, look, look! those Pelhams are speaking to that
Smith girl."

"No, they're not."

"But they are, Tom; don't you see?"

"No, I don't see any of them speaking to a Smith girl, but I do see Miss
Pelham speaking to--Miss Peggy Pelham."

Dora tossed her head impatiently. "What a silly joke!" she thought;
but--but--what was it that that tall young lady who had just jumped down
from her top seat on the coach was saying?

"The minute I read your letter, Peggy, telling me of this little dance,
Berk and I planned to drive over with the Apsleys and waltz a little