e in her fine feathers that people would stare
at her and wonder who that beautiful creature was. Suppose a prince
should be there who never would have noticed her but for the magic glass
slippers, and then suppose--

Lloyd did not put the rest of the delightful daydream into words, but
just stood thinking about it a long time, until her expression grew very
sweet and tender over a little romance which she dreamed might grow out
of her plan to give Agnes pleasure.

"If I only had thought of it in time to have had a Valentine pah'ty,"
she exclaimed aloud, "that would have been the very thing. But it is too
late now. This is the seventeenth." Then she clasped her hands
delightedly as that date suggested another. "It is five days till
Washington's Birthday. Maybe there will be time to get up a Martha
Washington affair. I'll ask Miss Allison about it this very night at
choir practice. She always has so many new ideas."

Tumbling the costumes back into the trunk, helter-skelter, she danced
down the stairs, impatient to tell her mother about it. But there were
guests in the library who had been invited to spend the afternoon and
stay to dinner, and Lloyd had no opportunity to speak of the subject
that was uppermost in her thoughts. Immediately after dinner she
excused herself, to slip into her red coat and furs, while Mom Beck
lighted the lantern they were to carry.

It was only a short distance to the Mallard place, where the choir was
to meet that week, so they did not need Alec's escort this time. The
wind flared their lantern as they went along the quiet country road.
They could see other lights bobbing along toward them, and, as they
neared the gate, Lloyd recognized Mrs. Walton's voice. She and Miss
Allison were coming up with their brother Harry.

"Is that you, Lloyd?" called Mrs. Walton, as they drew nearer. "I hoped
you would come early, for I have a letter from the girls that I know you
will want to read. They are full of preparations for a grand affair to
be given on the twenty-second,--a Martha Washington reception. As usual,
Kitty wants to depart from the accustomed order of things, and have a
costume in George's honour, instead of Martha's. She says why not, as
long as it is his birthday. She's painted a picture of the dress she has
concocted for the occasion. It is green tarlatan dotted all over with
little silver paper hatchets, and trimmed with garlands and bunches of
artificial cherries."

"Oh, I'm so