Mabel made a joyful little rush toward him, holding his
hand in both her own. "I knew you wouldn't disappoint me. Girls, this is
my father. Father, let me introduce you to the nicest girls in Overton."

Robert Ashe's sombre eyes smiled a kindly welcome as he looked into the
radiant young faces of his daughter's guests. As each girl was presented
to him he shook hands with her in a hearty, whole-souled way that
completely dispelled any feeling of constraint on her part.

"Father, you may take Elfreda in to dinner to-night. To-morrow it will
be some one else's turn. I hope you will be here to enough meals to go
the round."

"So do I," laughed Mr. Ashe, the stern look on his face disappearing,
his brown eyes looking almost boyish.

Dinner proved a merry meal. The usually quiet room rang with the gay
laughter of the happy girls, who had planned to enjoy every hour of
their holiday. When dinner was over, Mr. Ashe ceremoniously invited them
to be his guests at a theatre party that night.

"We'll have to make one evening dress do duty while we are here, Mabel.
We had room in our suit cases for only one, and didn't want to bring
trunks," explained Grace, as they lingered in the hall to talk for a
moment before going to their rooms to dress.

"Never mind, if you run out of gowns you can wear mine," offered Mabel.
"That is, you and Miriam can. I'm not so sure of Anne and Elfreda and
Patience."

* * * * *

The play Mr. Ashe had selected for his guests' entertainment was one
whose strong element of human interest had early carried it into favor
with the New York audience that nightly crowded the theatre in which it
was being presented. The star, a young woman of exceptional talent,
almost a great artist, had by her remarkable portrayal of the leading
role sprung from obscurity to fame in a single night.

"I am so glad we are going to see her!" exclaimed Anne, when Mabel had
announced her father's choice of play for them. "Miss Southard wrote me
about her. She played small parts in Mr. Southard's company two years
ago. He prophesied that she would some day be heard from."

"Isn't it a pity the Southards aren't here this winter?" sighed Grace.
"Mr. Southard was not anxious to go to England, but he could not help
himself. It's one of the vicissitudes of an actor's life, isn't it,
Anne?"

Anne nodded gravely. "It is pleasant to travel about and see what the
rest of the world is doing, but it