y?" asked Jim, seriously.

"No matter how I know but I do know. Why, I wouldn't leave him out of
my Party for anything. I'd almost rather be out of it myself!"

Then both he and Alfaretta remembered that winter day on the mountain
when Dorothy had been the means of saving Mike Martin from an
accidental death and the quiet conference afterward of the two, in
that inner room of the old forge under the Great Balm Tree. Probably
something had happened then and there to make Dolly so sure of Mike's
worthiness. But she was already passing on to "next," nodding toward
Alfy, with the words:

"The two Smith boys, Littlejohn and Danny."

Jim Barlow laughed but did not object. The sons of farmer Smith were
jolly lads and deserved a good time, once in their hard-worked lives;
yet he did stare when Dorothy concluded her list of lads with the
name:

"Frazer Moore."

"You don't know him very well, Dolly girl. Beside that, he'll make an
odd number. He's the seventh----"

"Son of the seventh son--fact!" interrupted Alfaretta; "and now we'll
have to find another girl to match him."

"I've found the girl, Dolly, but she won't match. Helena Montaigne
came up on the train by which your Father John left for the north. You
could hardly leave her out from your House Party, or from givin' her
the bid to it, any way."

"Helena home? Oh! I am so glad, I am so glad! Of course, she'll get
the 'bid'; I'll take it to her myself the first thing to-morrow
morning. But you didn't mention Herbert. Hasn't he come, too?"

James Barlow nodded assent but grudgingly. He had never in his heart
quite forgiven Herbert Montaigne for their difference in life; as if
it were the fault of the one that he had been born the son of the
wealthy owner of The Towers and of the other that he was a penniless
almshouse child. Second thoughts, however, always brought nobler
feeling into the honest heart of Jim and a flush of shame rose to his
face as he forced himself to answer.

"Yes, course. The hull fambly's here."

Dorothy checked the teasing words which rose to her lips, for when
ambitious Jim relapsed so hopelessly into incorrect speech it was a
sign that he was deeply moved; and it was a relief to see Alfaretta
once more diligently count upon her fingers and to hear her declare:

"We'll never'll get this here list straight and even, never in this
endurin' world. First there's a girl too many and now there's a girl
too short!"

"Never mind; we'll make