his mother could
interpose a word, he darted away in quest of Mrs. Nichols, whose
surprise was fully equal to that of Mrs. Livingstone and Carrie.

"Now, you don't say I've got an invite," said she, leaving the
darning-needle in the stocking-heel which she was mending, and wiping
her steel-bowed spectacles. "Come, 'Leny, you read it, that's a good
girl."

'Lena complied, and taking the note from her cousin's hand, read that
Mrs. Graham would be at home Thursday evening, etc.

"But where's the invite? That don't say anything about _me_!" said
Mrs. Nichols, beginning to fear that it was a humbug after all.

As well as they could, 'Lena and John Jr. explained it to her, and
then, fully convinced that she was really invited, Mrs. Nichols began
to wonder what she should wear, and how she should go, asking John
"if he couldn't tackle up and carry her in the shay," as she called
the single buggy.

"Certainly," answered John Jr. willing to do anything for the sake
of the fun which he knew would ensue from his grandmother's
attendance.

'Lena thought otherwise, for much as she desired to gratify her
grandmother, she would not for the world expose her to the ridicule
which her appearance at a fashionable party would call forth.
Glancing reprovingly at her cousin, she said, "I wouldn't think of
going, grandma, for you are lame and old, and there'll be so many
people there, all strangers, too, that you won't enjoy it at all.
Besides that, we'll have a nice time at home together---I'll read to
you all the evening."

"_We_," repeated John Jr. "Pray, are you not going?"

"Not without an invitation," said 'Lena smilingly.

"True, true," returned her cousin. "It's downstairs, I dare say. I
only stopped to look at this. I'll go and get yours now."

Suiting the action to the word, he descended to his mother's room,
asking for "'Lena's card."

"'Lena's card! What do you mean?" said Mrs. Livingstone, looking up
from the book she was reading, while Carrie for a moment suspended
her needle-work.

"'Lena's invitation; you know well enough what I mean," returned John
Jr., tumbling over the notes which lay upon the table, and failing to
find the one for which he was seeking.

"You'll have to ask Mrs. Graham for it, I presume, as it's not here,"
was Mrs. Livingstone's quiet answer.

"Thunder!" roared John Jr., "'Lena not invited! That's a smart
caper. But there's some mistake about it, I know. Who brought them?"