said
Dorothy.

"He is indeed," said Mrs. Dainty, "and I hope all his little friends
will be very thoughtful, and make him just as little trouble as
possible. He takes quite a care in inviting so many children."

"Oh, all the children love him, and there isn't one who would want to be
any bother, unless it was Floretta," said Dorothy, "and perhaps she'll
be having such a nice time, she won't think to be naughty."

Mrs. Dainty smiled at this view of it. She could not help thinking that
Floretta never needed time to think in order to be disagreeable, but
she did not say so.

Aunt Charlotte Grayson, seeing the stranger sitting alone, paused near
her chair to say a friendly word.

She remained but few moments, however, because the woman seemed not
inclined to talk.

Aunt Charlotte well knew that the stranger was not courteous, but she
tried to think, as Dorothy had, that fatigue, after a long journey, made
her eager for silence and rest.

CHAPTER V

THE MOUNTAIN PARTY

AS the days flew by, the stranger became a bit more friendly, conversing
sometimes with Mrs. Dainty and Aunt Charlotte, but often, far more
often, with Mrs. Paxton.

It was not that she sought to become acquainted with Floretta's mother;
it was, rather, that Mrs. Paxton seemed determined to force the
friendship.

"Her name is Fenton, Mrs. Fenton, and isn't it odd, _my_ name was Fenton
before I married. Floretta's middle name is Fenton. I really feel almost
as if I were related to her, because of the name," declared Mrs. Paxton
one morning, whereupon Mrs. Fenton, coming out on to the piazza,
remarked:

"Oh, indeed!"

Mrs. Paxton blushed and hesitated, then recovering herself, she said:

"I was just telling these ladies of my friendly feeling for you."

"Oh, indeed!" Mrs. Fenton repeated, as she sank into a large rocker, and
looked off across the valley to the distant mountains.

After a few moments she seemed to have lost interest in the view, and,
taking up a small embroidery frame, commenced to ply her needle as if
she were eager to finish the pretty doily.

Two little figures came slowly up the path to the piazza. They were
returning from the christening of the little boat.

"What is wrong, Jack? You don't look very happy," said Mrs. Tiverton.

"He wanted me to christen his boat, but he wouldn't give it my name!"
said Floretta, before Jack could reply.

"She thought just because she hemmed the sails I'd name it the
_Floret