othy suggested the next name:

"Molly Martin."

Even Alfy looked up in surprise. "Do you mean it, Dorothy C.?"

"Surely. After her put Jane Potter."

James was listening now and inquired:

"What you raking up old times for, Dorothy? Inviting them south-siders
that made such a lot of trouble when you lived 'up-mounting' afore
your folks leased their farm?"

"Whose 'Party' is this?" asked the young hostess, calmly, yet with a
twinkle in her eye.

"All of our'n," answered Alfaretta, complacently.

"How many girls now, Alfy?" questioned Molly, who longed to suggest
some of her schoolmates but didn't like a similar reproof to that
which fell so harmlessly from Alfaretta's mind.

"Five," said the secretary, counting upon her fingers. "Me, and you,
and her, and----five. Correct."

"Mabel Bruce."

"Who's she? I never heard of her," wondered Molly, while Jim answered:

"She's a girl 'way down in Baltimore. Why, Dorothy C., you know she
can't come here!"

"Why not? Listen, all of you. This is to be _my_ House Party. It's to
be the very nicest ever was. One that everyone who is in it will
never, never forget. My darling Aunt Betty gave me permission to ask
anybody I chose and to do anything I wanted. She said I had learned
some of the lessons of poverty and now I had to begin the harder ones
of having more money than most girls have. She said that I mustn't
feel badly if the money brought me enemies and some folks got
envious."

Here, all unseen by the speaker, honest Alfaretta winced and put her
hand to her face; but she quickly dropped it, to listen more closely.

"Mabel was a dear friend even when I was that 'squalling baby' Alfy
wrote about. I am to telegraph for her and to send her a telegraphic
order for her expenses, though Aunt Betty wasn't sure _that_ would be
acceptable to Mr. and Mrs. Bruce. To prevent any misunderstanding on
that point, you are to make the telegram real long and explicit. I
reckon that's what it means to be that committee Molly named. She'll
make six girls and that's enough. Six boys--how many yet Alfy?"

"Three. Them two that are and the one that isn't."

"Mike Martin."

Both Jim and Alfy exclaimed in mutual protest:

"Why Dorothy! That fellow? you must be crazy."

"No, indeed! I'm the sanest one here. That boy is doing the noblest
work anybody ever did on this dear old mountain; he's making and
keeping the peace between south-side and north-side."

"How do you know, Doroth