"Then what did you do?" asked Rob, with a grin. He had experimented with
Lloyd's temper himself in the past.

"I believe that that was the time I pounded her on the back with my
little red chair," answered Lloyd, laughing at the recollection. "Or
maybe it was the time I banged her ovah the head with a toy teakettle. I
remembah I did both those bad things, and that we were always in trouble
whenevah we were togethah. I didn't want mothah to invite her, but she
said she felt that we ought to. Eugenia's mothah is dead. She died three
yeahs ago, and since then she's been kept in a boa'din' school most of
the time. When she's not away at school she stays in some big hotel with
her fathah, eithah in New York or at some summah resort. He is always so
busy there's no one to pay any attention to her but her maid. They are
very wealthy, and Eugenia has had the best of everything so long that
I'm afraid she'll find the Valley dreadfully poah and poky. I imagine
she's stuck up, too. She used to be, and she's always had her own way
about everything."

"Number one doesn't sound very inviting," said Rob, with a sour grimace.
"Who is your number two?" Lloyd held out the second envelope.

_Miss Joyce Ware,
Plainsville,
Kansas._

"I nevah saw her," said Lloyd, "but I feel as if we had always been old
friends. Her mothah and mine used to go to school togethah heah in
Lloydsboro Valley at the Girls' College, and they've written to each
othah once a month for fifteen yeahs. Mrs. Ware is a widow now, and they
have ha'd times, for they are poah, and she has foah children youngah