o her "infair?"

In the first carriage, the state barouche, sat the four grayheaded
"Boys" whom she had known all their lives and for whom her best was
prepared. In the next was "that slip of a girl," one Mrs. Lucretia
Hungerford, a "girl" whose locks were already touched with the rime of
years; a rather stern and dignified person who could be no other than
Miss Isobel Greatorex of whom Dorothy had written; and a cadet in gray.
A West Pointer! Off for the briefest of "furloughs" and a too-short
reunion with his radiant mother. Cadet Tom Hungerford, and no other.
Also, within that open trap a third gentlewoman, brought by Mrs.
Hungerford's invitation for a short "tour of the States" to see what
sort of home it was unto which she would consign her son, the lad Melvin
come to try his fortunes so far from home. The little widow, Mrs. Cook,
indeed; past mistress in the art of making gardens and good dinners, and
happy in her unexpected outing as a child. To her bonny face under its
white hair, with her lovely English color and her sorrow-chastened
smile, the heart of Mrs. Betty immediately went out in interest and
admiration. Stranger though she was her welcome, too, was ready.

But it was on that last open pony-cart, with its load of young folks,
that the eye of the hostess rested first and last. Such a gay and
laughing quartette that was! Molly and Dolly, the blonde and the
brunette, Monty and Melvin, the rotund and the slender; but Dolly the
gayest, the sweetest, the darlingest of all!

At least, that was what some of those welcoming people, grouped upon the
steps, believed with all their hearts. Father John and Mother Martha,
Mr. Seth and "Fairy Godmother," aye and honest Jim, first and
faithfullest of comrades--to these there was visible, for one moment,
no face save the face of smiling Dorothy.

When they were all housed and supper ended, they gathered in the great
parlors, which Alfaretta's capable hands had adorned with masses of
golden-rod, of scarlet woodbine and snowy wreaths of seeding
clematis--feathery and quite "too graceful for words," as Dorothy
declared, lovingly hugging Alfaretta who lingered by the door, a new
shyness upon her, yet longing to be beside these other girls and lads no
older than she, but who had seen so much more of the world in which they
all lived.

Then when Mrs. Betty begged:

"Now if all are rested, let's compare our notes of the summer and tell
what each found loveliest to remem