[Illustration: PHRONSIE CAME SLOWLY DOWN THE HALL.]

"This is just as splendid as it can be," cried Polly, coming in, and
picking up one of the roses at her plate. "Phronsie, you are just a dear
to have everything so nice," and she fastened it at her belt. "Why, dear
me! You've a fine gown on! What is going to happen?"

"And you didn't see it," said Phronsie, a bit reproachfully, as she
gently smoothed the front breadth of mull.

"Forgive me, dear," begged Polly. "Well, what is it, Pet? Do tell me;
for I'm dying of curiosity, as the Salisbury girls say."

Phronsie stood up on tiptoe, and achieved Polly's ear.

"Who do you think is coming to-night?" she whispered impressively.

"To-night? Oh, dear me! I can't possibly guess," said Polly, beginning
to think that this one evening of all the year held supreme moments for
her. "Who is it, Phronsie? do tell me quickly."

"Well," said Phronsie, drawing off to see the surprised delight sure to
come on Polly's face, "it's Jasper himself."

"Not Jasper?" exclaimed Polly, quite gone with joy. "Oh, Phronsie
Pepper, you can't mean that?"

"But I do," said Phronsie, forgetting her age, to hop up and down on the
rug, "we've a letter while you were at the school, and I wasn't to tell