resort,--a coaching-party.
"Ta-ra, ta-ra, ta-ra-a-a-a," wound the coach horn; and up the carriage
drive rattled a superb vehicle, drawn by four superb gray horses. The
long summer daylight yet lingered, and showed the faces of the party
atop of the coach.

"It's the Pelham team, and that's young Berk Pelham holding the reins,"
said a bystander.

Dora and Amy Robson, who had run out with the others from the
dancing-hall, caught Tom Raymond as he was passing them; and Dora
whispered,--

"Are they the Pelhams,--Agnes's Pelhams?"

"'Agnes's Pelhams'? Oh, oh!" gurgled Tom, nearly choking with suppressed
laughter. Then, "Yes, yes, Agnes's Pelhams; but where is Agnes? She
ought to be here to welcome her Pelhams."

"She's gone to bed with a headache or something. She came in looking
dreadfully a few minutes ago."

"I should think she might; she had had a blow."

"What do you mean? But, look, look! those Pelhams are speaking to that
Smith girl."

"No, they're not."

"But they are, Tom; don't you see?"

"No, I don't see any of them speaking to a Smith girl, but I do see Miss
Pelham speaking to--Miss Peggy Pelham."

Dora tossed her head impatiently. "What a silly joke!" she thought;
but--but--what was it that that tall young lady who had just jumped down
from her top seat on the coach was saying?

"The minute I read your letter, Peggy, telling me of this little dance,
Berk and I planned to drive over with the Apsleys and waltz a little
waltz with you. Twenty miles in an hour and a half. Isn't that fine
time? And you are looking so much better, Peggy, for the salt air, and
away from all our racket. Mamma was wise when she sent you on ahead with
auntie, but we're all coming to join you next week."

"Tom, Tom, you were not joking?" gasped Dora.

"When I said that girl was Peggy Pelham? Joking? No, it's a solid
fact,--so solid it's knocked Agnes flat. Oh!" and Tom began to shake
again; "it's too rich, it's too rich. Come over here away from the
crowd, you and Amy, and let me tell you the whole story, and then you'll
see what a blow Agnes has had."

Never had a narrator a more excitingly interesting story to tell, and
never did narrator enjoy the telling more than Tom on this occasion; but
though his hearers hung upon his words, these words were full of
bitterness to them; and when at the close he flung his head back and
said, "Isn't it the greatest fun?" Dora, out of her shame and
mortification, cried,--

"Yes,