always said to us, 'Never break a confidence.'"

A hurt look crept into Mary's face. "Oh, never mind," she managed to
say with a brave assumption of indifference. "I don't wish to know about
it if you don't care to tell me."

"But I _do_ care to tell you, and I will if Connie says I may," assured
Marjorie earnestly.

Mary had no time for further remark. They had reached the double
entrance doors to the building and were hailed by a crowd of girls at
the foot of the steps.

"Oh, Connie," Marjorie Dean cried out delightedly. She had spied her
friend among them.

Constance ran forward to meet Marjorie and Mary. "I couldn't come
before. I've been to the train. Father is here. He's going to be at home
for two days. And what do you think he wishes me to do?"

"You are not going away with him?" asked Marjorie in sudden alarm.

"No, indeed. I couldn't give up my sophomore year here, even for him. It
isn't anything so serious. He proposed that as long as he was here to
play for us, it would be a good idea to----"

"Give a dance," ended Jerry Macy. "Hurrah for Mr. Stevens! Long may he
wave!"

"Yes, you have guessed it, Jerry," laughed Constance. "I'm going to give
a party in honor of Mary. I was so excited over it that I left him to go
on to Gray Gables by himself, while I rushed over here as fast as I
could come. I wanted to catch you girls together so I could invite you
in a body. Jerry, do you suppose Hal would be willing to see Lawrie and
the Crane and some of our boys? It will have to be a strictly informal
hop, for I haven't time to send out invitations."

"Of course he'll round up the crowd," assured Jerry slangily. "If he
doesn't, I will. I guess I won't go to Sargent's with you. What is mere
ice cream when compared to a dance? Besides, it's fattening--the ice
cream, I mean. I've lost five pounds this summer and I'm not going to
find them again at Sargent's if I can help it. So long, I'll see you all
to-night."

Jerry bustled off on her errand, leaving her friends engaged in an eager
discussion of the coming festivity. A little later they trooped down the
street to their favorite rendezvous, where most of their pocket money
found a resting place.

"We won't have a single bit of appetite for luncheon," commented
Marjorie to Mary, when, an hour later, they set out for home.

"I suppose not," assented Mary indifferently. Her thoughts were far from
the subject of luncheon. Her jealousy of Constance Stevens was