altering the motto a little, and changing some words in the
speech--didn't aunty think it could be done?

No; she did not think that idea practicable. "You see, Oscar," she said,
"a celebration must celebrate something, an anniversary or some
interesting event. As there is nothing of the kind in this case, I
really think your only course, since you have no music ready, is to give
up the festival entirely for the present, and wait till you have
something to celebrate."

Poor Oscar! he was terribly disappointed; yet he could not but
acknowledge that his aunt was right, and he followed her into the house,
dreading his father's questions and the discovery that was sure to
follow. Supper was just ready as they entered the house, so that Emma
could not satisfy her eager desire to know the result of her aunt's
mission; so that she, as well as Oscar, sat at the table in troubled
silence, both absorbed in secret fears, and both hoping, if they did not
speak, that they should escape being spoken to. Fred noticed their
unusual demeanor, and presently he remarked, slyly:

"There is a bird called the ostrich, _Struthio_ which has a habit of
hiding its head in the sand, believing that, in so doing, he conceals
himself from the hunter. This bird is sometimes seen in this
neighborhood, and his usual food is potato-salad."

Oscar took no notice of this bit of sarcasm, but remained intent on his
potato-salad; but his father, who was watching him, laughed and said:--

"Is he overpowered by the pleasures of the approaching festival?"

As no farther questions followed, and the supper went on without any
inquiries about Fani, both Oscar and Emma rose from the table with
easier minds. The danger was not yet over, of blame for Emma and
ridicule for Oscar; but they had gained time, and they breathed more
freely as they turned again to their aunt for help and advice.

CHAPTER VIII.

AT SUNSET.

Elsli continued to go daily to the little invalid, and, from the first
visit, she had been a dear friend and companion to the sick girl, who
would not hear of her going on errands, but kept her by her own side
from the moment she came, till it was time to go home. Mrs. Stanhope,
whose only object in life was her little girl's happiness, was more than
pleased with this arrangement; and watched with delight as Nora grew,
from day to day, more cheerful and even lively in the companionship of a
girl of her own age. And Elsli, too, profited