"There goes the bell!" exclaimed Gladys, "and I'm not even dressed. It's
some of the boys, I hear their voices," she said presently, after
listening for the sounds from below. "Run down, will you, girls, and
entertain them until I come?"

The Winnebagos departed to act the part of hostesses for their friend
and Gladys got hurriedly into her dress. Before she was ready to go down
she heard a large group of girls arriving, then another delegation of
boys. The orchestra had begun playing. Gladys's foot tapped the floor in
time to the music as she fastened up the dress. "Just wait until they
see me dance the Butterfly Dance," she was thinking, with innocent
pride. She clasped the butterflies on her shoulders in place and with a
last survey of herself in the glass she set forth to greet her guests.
When she reached the head of the stairs the bell rang again and she
paused to see who it was. From the hall upstairs she could get a view of
the entire reception room without being seen herself. The last comer was
Emily Meeks, whom the maid was relieving of her wraps. She was all
alone, apparently at a loss what to do in company, and--dressed in a
white skirt and middy blouse! Gladys could see the coldly amused glances
some of the girls were bestowing on her, and the indifference with which
she was being treated by the boys. Why did she come dressed in such a
fashion? Gladys felt a little indignant at her. Then she reflected that
Emily probably had nothing else to wear, and, besides, it didn't make
any difference if one was dressed so plainly; there were enough brightly
dressed girls to make the brilliant scene that she loved.

But at the same time a thought struck her which made her decidedly
uncomfortable. It was, "How would you like to be the odd one in the
crowd, and have all the others take notice of you because you didn't
match your surroundings? To face a battery of eyes that were amused or