dy?" she cried, running to meet her.

"Yes, here it is. Angela gave it to me at once."

"Just the size of _my_ paper, and the wax--you see I was right. There
_is_ wax, and a seal-stamp that looks like _my_ stamp, but isn't,"
exclaimed Marian. "Now for the handwriting!" One glance at the address
on the envelope; then, pulling out the note, she bent breathlessly over
it for a moment. In another moment she was calling out triumphantly: "I
know it! I know it! She tried to imitate mine, but I know these M's and
r's and A's. They're Nelly Ryder's! they're Nelly Ryder's! Look here;"
and running to her desk, the excited girl produced another note, and
placed it beside the one that Angela had received. It was Nelly Ryder's
acceptance of her invitation; and Mary, looking at the peculiar M's and
r's and A's saw as clearly as Marian herself the proof of the same hand
in each note.

"And I should know her 'hand' anywhere, for I've had hundreds of notes
from her, first and last," Marian went on. "But to think of her playing
such a trick as this! I never had any admiration for her, or her cousin
either; but I _didn't_ think either one of them could do such a
mischievous, vulgar thing. But _you_ did, Mary, for this is the girl you
suspected."

"Yes, because I had known more of her than you had,--going to school
with her every day;" and then Mary told what she had known, and what
she had seen herself, winding up with, "But I didn't like to tell you
all this before I had certain proof, for I wanted to be fair, you know."

"And you _have_ been fair, more than fair; and now--"

"Well, go on, what do you stop for--now what?"

"Wait and see;" and Marian nodded her head, and compressed her lips into
a firm, resolute line.

"Oh, Marian, are you going to punish Nelly?" cried Mary, a little
alarmed at these indications.

Marian nodded again.

"Yes, I'm going to punish her."

"Oh, how, when, where?"

"When? On Thursday night. Where? At the birthday party. How? Wait and
see."

CHAPTER III.

It was the evening of the first of April,--a beautiful, still, starry
evening, with all the chill and frost of early spring blown out of it by
the friendly winds of March, and all the lovely promises of summer
buddings and flowerings wafting into it from waiting May and June.

A "just perfect evening," said more than one girl delightedly, as she
set out arrayed in all her furbelows for the birthday party. A "just
perfect evening." An