g Day was the very day to make up with
folks and be good to 'em, but I knew you _would_ object to Joe Marchant,
and so--"

"I--I don't know about it, Elsie. If Tommy feels like that, I--I don't
believe it would be wise for me to check him. No, I don't believe I can.
Tommy is nearer right than I am. He is doing a fine, generous thing,
and it _is_ the right thing, and I think we must put up with Joe
Marchant, Elsie, after all."

"Oh, _I_ don't mind, if _you_ don't, mamma; but I thought you wouldn't
like it, and it would spoil the day."

"No, nothing done in that spirit _could_ spoil the day; and, Elsie, I
hope the rest of you will make your choice of guests with as good reason
as Tommy has."

Elsie looked at her mother with an odd, eager expression, as if she were
about to speak. Then she suddenly lifted up her head with a little air
of resolution, and starting forward hurriedly left the room.

Mrs. Lambert laughed as the door closed.

"I think I know what Elsie is going to do," she said smilingly to Mrs.
Mason. "There is a young teacher in her school, Miss Matthews, who is
seldom invited anywhere, she is so unpopular. I've often asked Elsie to
bring her home, and she has always put it off; but I believe that this
act of Tommy's and what I've said about it has made such an impression
upon her that she has gone now to invite Miss Matthews to be her guest
next week. She was going to tell me about it at first, then she thought
better of it. They've all had this liberty for the last year--not to
tell--it's so much more fun for them; and I can always trust Elsie to
look out for things, she has such good sense with her good heart."

"Yes, and you _all_ seem to have such good sense and such good hearts,
Mrs. Lambert," said Mrs. Mason, as she rose to go; but as she walked
down the street she said to herself, "Such good sense and such good
hearts, overflowing with charity and forgiveness for everybody but John
Lambert!"

CHAPTER II.

It was Thanksgiving Day, and just three minutes to the dinner-hour at
the Lamberts', and all the guests had arrived except the one that Elsie
had bidden.

"Don't fret, Elsie," whispered Mrs. Lambert to her, as she noted the two
red spots burning in her cheeks and her anxious glances toward the
clock,--"don't fret; she's probably going to be fashionably exact on the
stroke of the hour."

Elsie gave a little start at this, and, laughing nervously, began to
talk to Joe Marchant, wh