Rosamond smiled contentedly.  She was beginning to recognize her own special opportunities.  She was quite conscious of her own tact in utilizing them.

But then came the intricate questions of who? and who not?

“Not everybody, of course,” said Rose, “That would be a confusion.  Just the neighbors,—­right around here.”

“That takes in the Hobarts, and leaves out Leslie Goldthwaite,” said Ruth, quietly.

“O, Leslie will be at the Haddens’, or here,” replied Rosamond.  “Grace Hobart is nice,” she went on; “if only she wouldn’t be ‘real’ nice!”

“That is just the word for her, though,” said Ruth.  “The Hobarts are real.”

Rosamond’s face gathered over.  It was not easy to reconcile things.  She liked them all, each in their way.  If they would only all come, and like each other.

“What is it, Rose?” said Barbara, teasing.  “Your brows are knit,—­your nose is crocheted,—­and your mouth is—­tatted!  I shall have to come and ravel you out.”

“I’m thinking; that is all.”

“How to build the fence?”

“What fence?”

“That fence round the pond,—­the old puzzle.  There was once a pond, and four men came and built four little houses round it,—­close to the water.  Then four other men came and built four big houses, exactly behind the first ones.  They wanted the pond all to themselves; but the little people were nearest to it; how could they build the fence, you know?  They had to squirm it awfully!  You see the plain, insignificant people are so apt to be nearest the good time!”

“I like to satisfy everybody.”

“You won’t,—­with a squirm-fence!”

If it had not been for Ruth, we should have gone on just as innocently as possible, and invited them—­Marchbankses and all—­to our Halloween frolic.  But Ruth was such a little news-picker, with her music lessons!  She had five scholars now; beside Lily and Reba, there were Elsie Hobart and little Frank Hendee, and Pen Pennington, a girl of her own age, who had come all the way from Fort Vancouver, over the Pacific Railroad, to live here with her grandmother.  Between the four houses, Ruth heard everything.

All Saints’ Day fell on Monday; the Sunday made double hallowing, Barbara said; and Saturday was the “E’en.”  We did not mean to invite until Wednesday; on Tuesday Ruth came home and told us that Olivia and Adelaide Marchbanks were getting up a Halloween themselves, and that the Haddens were asked already; and that Lily and Reba were in transports because they were to be allowed to go.

“Did you say anything?” asked Rosamond.

“Yes.  I suppose I ought not; but Elinor was in the room, and I spoke before I thought.”

“What did you tell her?”

“I only said it was such a pity; that you meant to ask them all.  And Elinor said it would be so nice here.  If it were anybody else, we might try to arrange something.”