only a little way she has. You are too critical of her, Alan."

"Well, she makes me tired," responded the boy, rolling up his eyes
at his mother, whose deep-seated objection to that phrase he well
knew. "She wants to be the very middle of things when we're
together, and must have just so much fuss made over her. She'd be
well enough, if it wasn't for that."

"Katharine has a great deal of character, after all," said his
mother. "You aren't quite fair to her, Alan. If Polly or Florence
did the same things she does, you would think it was all right."

"Polly and Kit aren't to be spoken of in the same breath,"
answered Alan energetically. "Florence doesn't count, one way or
the other; but Polly is a splendid girl, and about the best friend
I have. She always fights for me, and it would be mean if I didn't
return the compliment once in a while. Here comes Mrs. Adams now,"
he added, as he glanced out of the window.

It was only an errand, not a call, she hurriedly explained. Friday
night was going to be Hallowe'en, and wouldn't Alan and the girls
come over to celebrate, as a surprise to Polly? Jean and Florence
would be there, too. Then she went away again, leaving Alan to
discuss the matter with his mother.

Friday evening came, and the surprise was kept a profound secret.
Mrs. Adams had called Polly up-stairs to try on a new gown which
she had just finished, and Polly was still revolving in front of
the mirror, making vain attempts to view her back, when the bell
rang.