“I don’t know.  Seems to me, if I could think of your faults instead of mine, it wouldn’t be so hard to look sweet.”

Annie could but see that there was more earnestness than fun in the queer talk of her new acquaintance.

The truth was, that Jenny had been having almost as hard a struggle with her tongue as Dick Lee with his, though not for the same reason.  Before many minutes she had frankly told Annie all about it, and she could not have done that if she had not somehow felt that Annie’s “sweetness” was genuine.

The two girls were sure friends after that, much to the surprise of Mr. Dabney Kinzer.  He, indeed, had been too much occupied in caring for all his guests, to pay especial attention to any one of them.

His mother had looked after him again and again, with eyes brimful of pride and of commendation of the way in which he was acquitting himself as “host.”

Mrs. Foster herself remarked to her husband, who had now arrived,—­

“Do you see that?  Who would have expected as much from a raw, green country boy?”

“But, my dear, don’t you see?  The secret of it is, that he’s not thinking of himself at all he’s only anxious that his friends should have a good time.”

“That’s it; but then, that, too, is a very rare thing in a boy of his age.”

“Dabney,” exclaimed the lawyer in a louder tone of voice.

“Good-evening, Mr. Foster.  I’m glad you’ve found room.  The house isn’t half large enough.”

“It’ll do.  I understand your ponies ran away with you to-day.”

“They did come home in a hurry, that’s a fact; but nobody was hurt.”

“I fear there would have been, but for you.  Do you start for Grantley with the other boys, tomorrow?”

“Of course.  Dick Lee and I need some one to take care of us.  We never have travelled so far before.”

“On land, you mean.  Is Dick here to-night?”

“Came and looked in, sir; but he got scared by the crowd, and went home.”

“Poor fellow!  I don’t wonder.  Well, we will all do what we can for him.”

Poor Dick Lee!

And yet, if Mr. Dabney Kinzer had known his whereabouts at that very moment, he would half have envied him.

Dick’s mother was in the kitchen, helping about the “refreshments;” but she had not left home until she had compelled her son to dress himself in his best,—­white shirt, red necktie, shining shoes, and all; and she had brought him with her, almost by force.

“You’s goodnuff to go to de ‘Cad’my and leab yer pore mother, an’ I reckon you’s good nuff for de party.”

Dick had actually ventured in from the kitchen, through the dining-room, and as far as the door of the back parlor, where few would look.

How his heart did beat, as he gazed upon the merry gathering, a large part of whom he had “known all his born days”!

But there was a side-door opening from that dining-room upon the long piazza which Mrs. Kinzer had added to the old Morris mansion; and Dick’s hand was on the knob of that door, almost before he knew it.