g promising in the
voice. "Do you dry those eyes out in a hurry, and run out doors to get
cool and cheerful, and don't ask me any questions."

"But Ralph--"

"Go, I say, and do just as I tell you. Don't give that cake another
thought, but go and fix yourself as pretty as you can for this evening,
and I promise you everything shall be all right."

"Oh, you blessed boy," cried Kittie, with a gasp of relief.

"Boy! Don't insult me; remember I will vote this Fall."

"To be sure; I beg your pardon," and Kittie began to laugh through her
tears. She hadn't the slightest idea what he could do to make matters
all right, but then he had said he would, and that was enough. She
never doubted but what he could do whatever he set his mind to.

Just after it came time to light the parlors, it became evident to all
that something was the matter with Kat. She didn't say anything, but on
coming in from a late tow on the pond, and finding everything lighted,
she gave a gasp, and stood perfectly still in the parlor door.

"Well, what were you down to the pond this late for?" asked Bea,
flitting about in her white dress, with the softest color in her cheeks,
a knot of blush roses in her hair, and another in her belt.

"I--I was cool--I mean I wanted to get cool," answered Kat with a
stammer, and her eyes going hurriedly from one room to the other.

"What did you light up so early for?"

"I don't call seven o'clock early--there goes the gate now."

Kat groaned, as if in deepest despair, then dashed up stairs, and cast
herself into the first chair with a tragic air.

"I knew it! I knew it! oh, what a miserable wretch I am, and whatever
will I do? I never never will be anything but a black sheep to the
longest day that I live?" After which cheerful prophesy, she ran both
hands over her hair by way of smoothing any stray locks, gave her skirts
a twist, and herself a general shake, and started slowly down stairs
again, with a grimly resigned air.

It was only the most informal of little evening company, so every one
came early, and in a little while the quiet evening air grew musical
with merry voices and gay laughter, then became quieter, and was
replaced by notes from the piano, or some one voice trilling out a
popular song or a pretty ballad. Everything went flourishingly; to be
sure, there were more ladies than gentlemen, which required much
watching and managing on Bea's part, that no lady should suffer a dearth
of masculine