s rather mean to leave her out," observed Molly. "I suppose she's
sore about it. But we didn't ask all the girls at Queen's. Sallie Marks
and two freshmen were not invited, and if we had gone outside, we'd have
invited Mary Stewart and Mabel Hinton."

"Still," said Mr. Kean, "there's nothing meaner than the 'left-out'
feeling. It cuts deep. Suppose we smooth things over by asking her to
our next party. Let me see. Will all of you give Mrs. Kean and me the
pleasure of having you dine with us to-morrow evening at the Inn? Now,
may I borrow some writing materials?" he added, after a chorus of
acceptances had been raised.

Nance conducted him to her writing desk, which was always the acme of
neatness, and well stocked with stationery. Here is the letter that Mr.
Kean wrote to Judith Blount, which Judy, looking over her father's
shoulder, read aloud as it evolved:

"'Dear Miss Blount:' (Blount, did you say her name was? Humph!) 'You
were quite right to scold Mr. Kean and me for making so much noise. It
was inconsiderate of us----'"

"But, Bobbie," protested Mrs. Kean, "it isn't fair to lay the blame on
me and make me write the letter, too."

"Be quiet, my love," answered her husband.

"'Will you not give us the pleasure of your company at dinner to-morrow
evening at the Inn? We are anxious to show you what really quiet,
law-abiding people we are, and Mr. Kean and I will be much disappointed
if you do not allow us the opportunity to prove it to you.'"

Judy's father paused, his pen suspended, while he asked:

"Didn't I see bill posters at the station announcing a performance at
the Opera House?"

"Yes," cried Judy. "They're giving 'The Silver King.'"

"'Dinner will be a little early,'" he wrote, "'because Mr. Kean is
planning to take us all to the play afterwards. He will call for you
in'----what shall I call for you in?"

"The bus," promptly answered every girl in the room.

"'--the bus at six fifteen. Anticipating much pleasure in having you
with us to-morrow, believe me,

Most cordially yours,
JULIA S. KEAN.'"

"Now, Julia, my love, sit down and copy what I've written in your best
handwriting, and we'll try to smooth down this fiery young person's
ruffled feathers."

Mrs. Kean obediently copied the note. After all, it wasn't an unkind
revenge, and Otoyo delivered it at Judith's door while the others
chatted quietly and absorbed quantities of hot fudge and crackers.

Presently Otoyo stole so