ore
to the affirmative. Miss Madeline Fosdick, Jane Kelsey's friend, was
responsible for the final change. She it was who had sold him his ticket
and urged him to be present. He and she had met several times since
the first meeting at the post-office. Usually when they met they talked
concerning poetry and kindred lofty topics. Albert liked Miss Fosdick.
It is hard not to like a pretty, attractive young lady who takes such a
flattering interest in one's aspirations and literary efforts. The "high
brow chit-chats"--quoting Miss Kelsey again--were pleasant in many
ways; for instance, they were in the nature of a tonic for weakened
self-esteem, and the Speranza self-esteem was suffering just at this
time, from shock.

Albert had, when he first heard that the dance was to take place,
intended inviting Helen to accompany him. He had taken her acceptance
for granted, he having acted as her escort to so many dances and
social affairs. So he neglected inviting her and then came Issy's
mischief-making remarks and the trouble which followed. So, as inviting
her was out of the question, he resolved not to attend, himself. But
Miss Fosdick urged so prettily that he bought his ticket and promised to
be among those present.

"Provided, of course," he ventured, being in a reckless mood, "that you
save me at least four dances." She raised her brows in mock dismay.

"Oh, my goodness!" she exclaimed. "I'm afraid I couldn't do that. Four
is much too many. One I will promise, but no more."

However, as he persisted, she yielded another. He was to have two dances
and, possibly an "extra."

"And you are a lucky young man," declared Jane Kelsey, who had also
promised two. "If you knew how many fellows have begged for just one.
But, of course," she added, "THEY were not poets, second editions of
Tennyson and Keats and all that. It is Keats who was the poet, isn't it,
Madeline?" she added, turning to her friend. "Oh, I'm so glad I got it
right the first time. I'm always mixing him up with Watts, the man who
invented the hymns and wrote the steam-engine--or something."

The Wednesday evening in the middle of September was a beautiful one
and the hotel was crowded. The Item, in its account the following week,
enumerating those present, spoke of "Our new residents, Mrs. Fletcher
Story Fosdick and Miss Madeline Fosdick, who are to occupy the
magnificent residence now about being built on the Inlet Hill by their
husband and father, respective