old thing we can find around the house. Come in any character
you choose, from the Queen of Sheba to a beggar maid, only don't fail
to come and bring the girlies.

"Lovingly,
"KITTY."

The three cousins watched their aunt's face anxiously. "You will go,
won't you, Aunt Ada?" asked Polly.

"I most certainly will. The first thing to do is to see what odds and
ends I have in the attic."

From this time on for the next two days there was great excitement
everywhere in the house, for with five costumes to devise out of
scraps, Miss Ada had her hands full. But when the moment came for them
all to start forth, each one had been provided with something suitable.
Miss Ada herself wore a Puritan cap and kerchief which distinguished
her as Priscilla, the Puritan maiden; Uncle Dick looked stunning, his
nieces agreed, as a Venetian gondolier; Mary was perfectly happy with a
long trained skirt, short waist and powdered hair, her crowning glory
being a pin which her aunt had lent her; it was set with rhinestones,
which in her innocence she mistook for real diamonds, but she was so
delighted with the shining brilliants that Miss Ada did not have the
heart to undeceive her. Polly insisted upon going as the wild Indian
her uncle had suggested to Molly that she looked like, and though her
costume did not accord very well with her fair hair, she was painted up
skilfully and with blanket, beads and moccasins was quite content.
Molly made a pretty butterfly with yellow paper wings, and as they all
set out across the hummocks to the little landing every one was
entirely satisfied. Green Island was not far away, and, as it was
bright moonlight these nights, no one minded the trip across the narrow
channel between the point and the island. The little hall was gay with
decorations of Japanese lanterns and wild flowers, and looked so
festive that even Mary declared it was perfectly lovely.

There were not very many children present, and the cousins felt quite
like grown-ups when they danced with Uncle Dick and other young men of
his age, the music being furnished by whoever would volunteer to play
two-steps and waltzes. Mary felt the necessity of crossing the room a
great many times that she might have the pleasant consciousness of the
train sweeping behind her. Polly as a dancer did not excel except in
funny whirls and figures and in a Spanish dance which she had learned
from her father's Mexican servants, and which won her gr