expression swept over her face--"but the little girl was nice, and she
hadn't any child."

Clorinda's countenance expressed no sorrow, but stared up at her mother
unblinkingly. Phronsie bent over and dropped a kiss on the red lips.

"Maybe she'll come again some day, if I watch by the big gate."

"My goodness me!" Polly, running along the upper hall, peered over the
railing. "What are you doing, Phronsie, sitting down in the middle of the
stairs?"

"I'm thinking," said Phronsie, looking up.

"Well, I should say!" cried Polly, running down to sit beside her. "Oh,
Pet, I've an invite for you." She seized Phronsie's hand and cuddled it in
both of her own. "It's perfectly splendid."

"What's an 'invite'?" asked Phronsie, coming slowly out of her thoughts, to
peer into Polly's face.

"Oh, I forgot, Mamsie didn't want me to say that," said Polly, with a
little blush. "Well, it's an invitation, Pet, and to Miss Mary Taylor's, to
go with us girls this afternoon to work on our fancy things for the fair.
Only think of that, Phronsie Pepper!" And Polly threw her arms around the
small figure, and hugged her, to the imminent danger of both falling down
the rest of the flight.

"Oh, dear me!" exclaimed Polly, "we almost went over."