that, from one's own
brother! And Daisy did not shine you down, either."

Hanny kissed her with a sort of rapture. She couldn't understand; she
seemed to be walking on the azure clouds instead of solid earth.

Mr. Andersen went to the carriage with them, and said he should surely
call when he returned from Philadelphia.

Daisy leaned her head down on her mother's shoulder. She was more tired
than she would admit. Hanny's eyes were like stars, and her brain was
still filled with wonderful melodies and light airy figures trooping to
the ravishing sounds, the shimmering light and sparkle. Doctor Joe just
carried her up the steps, and opened the door with his latch-key. But
Mrs. Underhill had heard them, and she came downstairs, wrapped in a
shawl.

"Oh, Joe, how could you keep her out so late! Do you know it's almost
three o'clock?"

Then the mother folded her to her heart. It seemed as if she had been
snatched from some great danger; and now that she had her safe and
sound, she felt as if she should never let her go again.

"You're all excitement, Hanny; you tremble like a leaf. Such
dissipations are bad for growing girls."

"Oh, mother, I think I'm done growing," Hanny laughed, with a soft ring
of music in her voice. "I have wanted to be tall like Margaret; but now
I do not mind a bit. I think I shall always be father's little girl. And
the dancing was so delightful; but you can't think how queer and long
the supper was. And Mr. Thackeray really shook hands with me. He has two
little girls, and they haven't any mother. If you could have seen Daisy!
And she dances beautifully."

"Hanny, your tongue runs like a mill-race. Do keep still, child. Cynthia
has you pinned in every fashion. I hope your dress looked nice enough
for a little girl. There, I'll take care of them all. You will never
want to get up in the morning."

When she had hung the dress out of sight, she felt as if she had her
little girl once more. And the little girl fell asleep to the sound of
the most delicious music ever floating through one's brain.

CHAPTER XIX

THE COURSE OF TRUE LOVE

Yes, Hanny Underhill was a little girl again in gaiter-length dresses,
and her braids tied across at the back of her head. They let her sleep
until the latest moment; and then she had to hurry off to school. But
her eyes were bright; and she could have danced along the street, if it
had been the proper thing to do.

Daisy did not fare so well. She