o meet her.

"Remember," called Cornie after her. "We've taken you under our wing,
and claim you for our sorority. We're not going to have any of the
Lloydsboro Valley girls imposed on, and if she gets too uppity she'll
find herself boycotted."

As the door closed behind her Dorene remarked, "She's a dear little
thing. I'm going to see that she has so much attention to-night that
Ethelinda will wake up to the fact that she's worth having for a friend.
I'm going to ask Evelyn Berkeley to make a special point of being nice
to her."

The thought that Cornie considered her one of the Lloydsboro girls sent
Mary away with a pleasurable thrill that made her cheeks glow all
evening. There was something in the donning of party clothes that
always loosened her tongue, and conscious of looking her best she
plunged into the festivity of the hour with such evident enjoyment that
others naturally gravitated towards her to share it.

"Congratulations!" whispered Betty, happening to pass her towards the
close of the evening. "You're quite one of the belles of the ball."

"Isn't it simply perfect?" sighed Mary, her face beaming.

Herr Vogelbaum had just come in and was settling himself at the piano,
in place of the musicians who had been performing. This was an especial
treat not on the programme, and all that was needed in Mary's opinion to
complete a heavenly evening. He played the same improvisation that had
caught her up in its magic spell the day of her arrival, and she went to
her room in the uplifted frame of mind which finds everything
perfection. Even her strained relations with Ethelinda seemed a trifle,
the tiniest thorn in a world full of roses. Her last waking thought was
a resolution to be so good and patient that even that thorn should
disappear in time.

Mary's popularity was not without its effect upon Ethelinda, especially
the Lady Evelyn's evident interest in her. It argued that she was worth
knowing. Then, too, it would have been a hard heart which could have
steeled itself against Mary's persistent efforts to be friendly. It was
a tactful effort also, making her daily put herself in Ethelinda's place
and consider everything from her view-point before speaking. Many a time
it helped her curb her active little tongue, and many a time it helped
her to condone the one fault which particularly irritated her.

"Of course it is hard for her to keep her half of the room in order,"
she would say to herself. "She's a