nted as to the proper phrasing throughout and the precise
temperature which she should impart to her politeness. She wrote an
unpractised, uncharacteristic round hand, the same in which she used to
set the children's copies at school, and she subscribed herself, after
some hesitation between her husband's given name and her own, "Yours
truly, Mrs. S. Lapham."

Penelope had gone to her room, without waiting to be asked to advise or
criticise; but Irene had decided upon the paper, and on the whole, Mrs.
Lapham's note made a very decent appearance on the page.

When the furnace-man came, the Colonel sent him out to post it in the
box at the corner of the square. He had determined not to say anything
more about the matter before the girls, not choosing to let them see
that he was elated; he tried to give the effect of its being an
everyday sort of thing, abruptly closing the discussion with his order
to Mrs. Lapham to accept; but he had remained swelling behind his
newspaper during her prolonged struggle with her note, and he could no
longer hide his elation when Irene followed her sister upstairs.

"Well, Pers," he demanded, "what do you say now?"

Mrs. Lapham had been sobered into something of her former misgiving by
her difficulties with her note. "Well, I don't know what TO say. I
declare, I'm all mixed up about it, and I don't know as we've begun as
we can carry out in promising to go. I presume," she sighed, "that we
can all send some excuse at the last moment, if we don't want to go."

"I guess we can carry out, and I guess we shan't want to send any
excuse," bragged the Colonel. "If we're ever going to be anybody at
all, we've got to go and see how it's done. I presume we've got to
give some sort of party when we get into the new house, and this gives
the chance to ask 'em back again. You can't complain now but what
they've made the advances, Persis?"

"No," said Mrs. Lapham lifelessly; "I wonder why they wanted to do it.
Oh, I suppose it's all right," she added in deprecation of the anger
with her humility which she saw rising in her husband's face; "but if
it's all going to be as much trouble as that letter, I'd rather be
whipped. I don't know what I'm going to wear; or the girls either. I
do wonder--I've heard that people go to dinner in low-necks. Do you
suppose it's the custom?"

"How should I know?" demanded the Colonel. "I guess you've got clothes
enough. Any rate, you needn't fret about it