one in the neighborhood was awake. In
fact, two individuals had invaded the shady spot where he was taking
his nap, and persisted in tickling his ears with grass till he was
obliged to leave. He did not mention this, however, only arched his
back and purred a little, and then, as if he suddenly remembered
important business, trotted off through the bars of the gate and up
the walk leading to a large house. The observer on the carriage-block
thought it the most attractive house she had ever seen. Everything
about it told of pleasant times: the tennis net, the hammock under the
trees, the broad piazza, and, most of all, the wide front door which
seemed to invite her to come in and see what sort of people lived
behind it. "I wonder who lives here. I wish I knew. I believe I'll
follow the cat and find out," she thought merrily.

At this moment the door opened and two little girls appeared, all in a
flutter of dainty blue ruffles. Each carried a cushion, and one had
what looked like an atlas under her arm.

"Shall we sit on the porch, Bess?" asked the one with yellow hair.

"Oh, no, Louise, don't you think it will be pleasanter under the
chestnut tree?" the brown-haired maiden said; and then they came
across the grass and settled themselves under the horse-chestnut, the
branches of which met those of the maple tree that cast its shade over
the carriage-block. They were quite unconscious of the wistful eyes
that watched them as they bent over the atlas, from which Louise took
some large sheets of paper.

"How pretty they are! I wish I knew them," the owner of the eyes said
to herself. Then, feeling rather shy in the presence of these charming
little persons who might look around presently and wonder what she was
doing there, she rose and took up her umbrella.

She couldn't help lingering a little, for she wanted very much to know
what they were going to do. Standing where she was shielded front
their view by a bush that grew in the fence corner, this is what she
heard:

"We haven't played the Carletons for ever so long; do begin," urged
Louise.

"I think Lucy ought to be married," said Bess; "she is eighteen, you
know, and I suppose people are generally married when they are so old
as that. Then a wedding will be such fun!"

"Yes, indeed, and she has been engaged to Edwin Graves a long time."

"Well, her father and mother have at last consented, though they
wanted her to marry an English earl, who was madly in lov