e, and Randy wondered what had caused a frown upon the
usually smiling face. "It would never do to ask her why she isn't enjoying
my party," she said to herself, "but I do wish she looked happier. I am so
happy this evening, that I wish everyone else to enjoy every moment of it.
I believe I'll ask her to sing for us. She sings nicely, and perhaps she
would be pleased to, if she knew we wished it."

Accordingly, Randy hastened to Polly who was standing apart from the
guests, and looking as if in anything but a pleasant mood. Her face
brightened, however, when told that it would be a pleasure to hear her
sing, and after a little urging, she consented. She possessed a light
soprano voice which had been carefully trained, and when she chose, she
could sing most acceptably.

On this especial evening, it pleased her to do her best, and she delighted
her friends with a number of songs, for which Miss Dayton played the
accompaniments. Polly received unstinted praise for her singing, and she
therefore, upon her return, told her aunt that the party was a success.

At the end of the drawing-room, Nina Irwin was merrily chatting with a
number of her friends, and Polly hastened to join the group, where she was
soon laughing as gaily as the others, and apparently as happy.

Near the centre of the room Miss Dayton and Randy, Jotham and Professor
Marden stood, evidently engaged in the discussion of a most interesting
subject, and as Aunt Marcia joined them, she was asked to give her
opinion.

"What has been my greatest pleasure in life?" She smiled as she repeated
the question, and turned for a moment and looked long and earnestly at her
portrait, then she said,

"When that picture was painted and was first seen by my friends, some one
remarked,

"'Oh, how dearly above all else Marcia prizes a gay life!'

"I have always enjoyed social pleasures," she continued, "but if I were to
say that one thing, above all else, gave me true delight, I should say,
that to make others happy had ever been my greatest joy."

"Pardon me, if I venture to say that that is the charm which has preserved
your beauty," said the young tutor, gravely bowing to Aunt Marcia, who,
sweeping a low courtesy, acknowledged the courtly speech which was uttered
in such evident sincerity.

"And, in return let me say, that the young man who thinks it worth while
to pay a graceful compliment to one who is quite old enough to be his
grandmother, proves himself to b