's to be lovely, I told you that, and there's one thing more I can
tell, and that is that it will be different from any party we ever
went to, or any party any of us ever had."

"Won't we be glad when we haven't to wait any longer to know just what
kind of a party it is?" said Sprite.

"Oh, yes," agreed Princess Polly, "and so will ever so many other
people, for I've heard people talking about it, and saying that they
were tired of guessing, and that they wished they knew now, instead of
having to wait still longer to know."

"It won't be very long now before they know," Rose said, laughing
gaily.

* * * * *

The secret was out, because the invitations were out.

Captain John Atherton, the genial master of the beautiful home at
Cliffmore, known as "The Cliffs," and of an equally beautiful estate
at Avondale, was to marry the girl whom he had always faithfully
loved.

The misunderstanding that had parted them had come about because of
the loss of a miniature of the girl, Iris Vandmere.

Its loss had grieved John Atherton.

He could not imagine how it could have so completely vanished. In
truth, it had been stolen, but Iris thought that her lover must have
valued it lightly, believing if he had properly guarded it, it could
not have been taken from him. One word had led to another, and she had
sent him away, grieving and wretched.

Her own heart was not less sad, but she had endeavored to hide that.
Then, on that lucky day of the Summer before, Princess Polly had found
the exquisite miniature lying in the middle of the sandy road.

How it came to be there, no one could say. Evidently someone, perhaps,
the one who had stolen it, had dropped it, and travelled on, unaware
that the famous miniature lay waiting a claimant, on the main road of
Cliffmore.

The Summer colony was excited, but of all those who were invited to be
present, none were more lovingly interested than the children.

John Atherton loved the children, and they dearly loved him.

One would have thought that the grand old house of the Vandmere's
would have been chosen for the wedding, but Iris was quite alone
there, save for her servants.

Both parents had but recently passed away, and the lonely girl felt
that the home with its sad memories was not at all the place for the
happy event.

"Let it be at Cliffmore," she had said, and at Cliffmore it was to be.

"Only think of it," Princess Polly said one mornin