There was an awful fuss then.  Aunt Hattie raised her eyebrows and threw up her hands, and said: 

“That child—­in the evening!  Why, Madge, are you crazy?”

And Mother said no, she wasn’t crazy at all; but it was the only chance Father would have to see me, and she didn’t feel that she had any right to deprive him of that privilege, and she didn’t think it would do me any harm to be out this once late in the evening.  And she intended to let me go.

Aunt Hattie still didn’t approve, and she said more, quite a lot more; but Grandfather spoke up and took my part, and said that, in his opinion, Madge was right, quite right, and that it was no more than fair that the man should have a chance to talk with his own child for a little while, and that he would be very glad to take me himself and look after me, if Aunt Hattie did not care to take the trouble.

Aunt Hattie bridled up at that, and said that that wasn’t the case at all; that she’d be very glad to look after me; and if Mother had quite made up her mind that she wanted me to go, they’d call the matter settled.

And Mother said she had, and so it was settled.  And I’m going.  I’m to wear my new white dress with the pink rosebud trimming, and I’m so excited I can hardly wait till to-morrow night.  But—­oh, if only Mother would go, too!

* * * * *

Two days later.

Well, now I guess something’s doing all right!  And my hand is shaking so I can hardly write—­it wants to get ahead so fast and tell.  But I’m going to keep it sternly back and tell it just as it happened, and not begin at the ice-cream instead of the soup.

Very well, then.  I went last night with Grandfather and Aunt Hattie to the reception; and Mother said I looked very sweet, and any-father-ought-to-be-proud-of me in my new dress.  Grandfather patted me, put on his glasses, and said, “Well, well, bless my soul!  Is this our little Mary Marie?” And even Aunt Hattie said if I acted as well as I looked I’d do very well.  Then Mother kissed me and ran upstairs quick.  But I saw the tears in her eyes, and I knew why she hurried so.

At the reception I saw Father right away, but he didn’t see me for a long time.  He stood in a corner, and lots of folks came up and spoke to him and shook hands; and he bowed and smiled—­but in between, when there wasn’t anybody noticing, he looked so tired and bored.  After a time he stirred and changed his position, and I think he was hunting for a chance to get away, when all of a sudden his eyes, roving around the room, lighted on me.

My! but just didn’t I love the way he came through that crowd, straight toward me, without paying one bit of attention to the folks that tried to stop him on the way.  And when he got to me, he looked so glad to see me, only there was the same quick searching with his eyes, beyond and around me, as if he was looking for somebody else, just as he had done the morning of the lecture.  And I knew it was Mother, of course.  So I said: