found several charming girls at school, and some of them were just wild
to see that lovely Miss Jasper, so her circle was widening all the time.

Margaret thought she ought to wear long dresses. Girls not quite grown
up wore them to their gaiter-tops. Crisp, elegant button-boots had not
come in, like a good many other excellent things. And Hanny was
undeniably petite. Stretch up her very utmost, she hardly measured five
feet. Women had not, by taking thought, added an inch to their stature
by high heels. There were one or two "lifts" put in between the soles,
called spring-heels; but the hats helped out a little.

"I haven't grown an inch this year," she declared ruefully. "And I am
afraid I never will be any taller. It's queer, when all the rest of you
are large."

"You are just right," said her father. "You will be my little girl all
your life long."

Doctor Joe comforted her with the asseveration that he liked little
women, "honest and true;" and Daisy also insisted she was just right.

"For you see how admirably your head goes down on my shoulder; and if we
were the same size, we should be bumping heads. Queen Victoria is only
five feet, and she is very queenly."

"But I am not queenly."

"No, but you could be, if you set about it."

She had some frocks to wear out that could not be let down; and her
mother settled the question according to that for the present.

There was another thing that gave her a vague suspicion of being grown
up, and that was cards.

The "quality" used visiting-cards; but it would have been considered
underbred and pretentious to sow them around in the modern manner. They
were kept for state occasions. Of course Dolly and Margaret had them;
and Hanny thought Joseph B. Underhill, M. D., looked extremely elegant.
Jim had some written ones in exquisite penmanship. He had not given up
society because one girl had proved false and deceitful. He made a
point of bowing distantly to Mrs. Williamson, and flushed even now at
the thought of having been such a ninny!

Daisy Jasper's name was on her mother's cards. But you couldn't persuade
Mrs. Underhill into any such nonsense. She declared if Joe brought her
home any, she would put them in the fire. One day, however, he dropped a
small white box into Hanny's lap, as she sat in his easy-chair, studying
her lessons. It was too small for confectionery; it might be--she had
coveted a pair of bracelets.

So she looked up with an inquiring smil