himself."

"I don't care if he doesn't," laughed Mary Alice; "he's a nice man, and
he seemed to be real----" And then she stopped again and looked
mysteriously knowing. And Godmother nodded approvingly.

"I loved the party," murmured Mary Alice, happily, as Godmother bent
over to give her her last good-night kiss. "I never supposed a party
where one didn't know a soul could be so nice."

"Knowing or not knowing people makes much less difference--when you
remember the Secret. Don't you find it so?" said Godmother.

And Mary Alice assented. "Yes, oh, yes! It's a wonderful magic--the
dear Secret is," she said.




VII

AT CANDLE-LIGHTIN' TIME

The next morning, Mary Alice wanted to know who everybody was; and
Godmother told her--every one but "the young man lion" as she called
him. The home they had been to was that of a celebrated editor and man
of letters who numbered among his friends the most delightful people of
many nations. The guests represented a variety of talents. The large,
dark, distinctly-foreign looking man was the great baritone of one of
the opera houses. The younger man, with the long, dark hair, was a