"Next?"

"Dorothy Calvert."

"So far so good. But them three's all girls. To a party there ought to be as many boys. That's the way we did to our last winter's school treat," declared Alfaretta.

"Well, there's Jim Barlow. He's a boy."

"He's no _party_ kind of a boy," objected Molly, "and he's only--_us_.

She hasn't anybody down that isn't us, so far. We few can't make a whole party."

But Dolly and Alfy were wholly serious.

"Montmorency Vavasour-Stark," suggested the former, and the writer essayed that formidable name. Then she threw down the pen in dismay, exclaiming:

"You'll have to indite that yourself or spell it out to me letter by letter. He'll take more'n a whole line if I write him to match the others."

"Oh! he doesn't take up much room, he's so little," rea.s.sured idle Molly, with a mischievous glance toward the doorway which the other girls did not observe; while by dint of considerable a.s.sistance Alfy "got him down" and "all on one line!" as she triumphantly remarked.

"That's two boys and three girls. Who's your next boy?"

"Melvin Cook. He's easy to write," said Dolly.

"But he's gone."

"Yes, Alfy, but he can come back. They'll all have to 'come' except we who don't have to."

A giggle from behind the portieres commented upon this remark and speeding to part them Dolly revealed the hiding figures of their two boy house-mates.

"That's not nice of young gentlemen, to peep and listen," remarked Molly, severely; "but since you've done it, come and take your punishment. You'll have to help. James Barlow, you are appointed the committee of 'ways and means.' I haven't an idea what that 'means,'

but I know they always have such a committee."

"What 'they,' Miss Molly?"

"I don't know, Mister Barlow, but you're--it."

"Monty, you'll furnish the entertainment," she continued.

The recipient of this honor bowed profoundly, then lifted his head with a sudden interest as Dorothy 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 n.o.blest 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, Dorothy?" 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 pa.s.sing 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?"