Angela couldn’t speak.  She could only give a little nod of assent, and yield herself to kind Mary’s guidance, with a deep breath of relief.  It was only a partial relief, however.  She had yet to go down into the brilliant parlor with its crowd of Selwyn cousins, yet to face, in that old shrunken gown with its washed sash, all those critical eyes.  Oh, what if all those eyes should look at her with a stare of astonishment, such as Lizzy and Nelly Ryder had bestowed upon her?  What if Marian herself should give a glance of surprise at the old shabby gown?  These were some of the troubled questions that whirled through Angela’s head as she went down the stairs with Mary Marcy.  And down behind them, following closely, though Angela did not know it, came the two Ryder girls, full of eager curiosity, for they were both of them now quite certain that Marian had received no note of any sort from Angela.  “She didn’t know enough to write an acceptance.  How should she?  I don’t suppose she’s ever had an invitation to a party in her life,” whispered Nelly to her cousin in the first shock of surprise at seeing Angela in the dressing-room.

“No, of course not,” whispered back Lizzy; and so, confident and secure in this belief, and in the anticipation of “fun,” as they called the displeased astonishment they expected to see Marian express at the sight of her uninvited guest, and the guest’s mortification thereat, the conspirators stepped softly along down the stairs and across the great hall into the beautiful brilliant parlor.

[Illustration:  As the fresh arrivals appeared]

Marian was standing at the farther end of the parlor facing the doorway, with two of the Selwyn cousins beside her, as the fresh arrivals appeared.  She was laughing joyously as they entered; but at her very first glimpse of the approaching group, the laugh ceased, and a look of sudden resolve flashed into her face,—­a look that the Selwyn cousins, who had been told the whole story of the fraudulent invitation, understood at once to mean, “Here is my opportunity and I’ll make the most of it!” But to the others—­to the four who were approaching—­this sudden change in their hostess’s face was thus variously interpreted:  “She has seen Angela,” thought the Ryder girls, triumphantly.  “She has seen the Ryder girls, and she is going to punish them,” thought Mary, nervously.  “She is looking at my dreadful old gown,” thought Angela, miserably.

And moved thus differently by such different anticipations, the little group came down the room, Mary’s nervousness increasing at every step,—­for her shyness and the Quaker love of peace rose up within her at the sight of Marian’s face, that seemed to her to betoken a plan of punishment for the approaching offenders more in accordance with the fiery Selwyn spirit than any spirit of peace.