Mrs. Primkins went to the window that looked toward the village, and was struck with horror.

[Illustration:  “DO LOOK DOWN STREET!”]

“Goodness gracious!  Why, what under the canopy!  Did you ever!” came from her lips in quick succession, for there was Nimpo, the center of a very mob of girls, all in Sunday best, as Mrs. Primkins’ experienced eye saw at a glance.

“Ma!” exclaimed Augusta, rushing down, “I do believe that young one has invited the whole school!”

“The trollop!” was all Mrs. Primkins could get out, in her exasperation.

“I’d send ’em right straight home!” said Augusta, indignantly.  “It’s a burning shame!”

“Mercy on us!  This is a pretty kettle of fish!” gasped Mrs. Primkins.

“I wouldn’t stand it!  So there!” said Augusta, sharply.  “I never did see such a young one!  I’d just send every chick and child home, and let Miss Nimpo take her supper in her own room—­to pay her off!  Things have come to a pretty pass, I think!”

“I never did!” ejaculated Mrs. Primkins, not yet recovering her ordinary powers of speech.

“Shall I go out and meet them, and send them packing?” asked Augusta.

“No,” said her mother, reluctantly, remembering the unbroken bill in her “upper drawer.”  “I do’ know’s I have a right to send them back.  I didn’t tell her how many, but—­mercy on us!—­who’d dream of such a raft!  If there’s one, there’s forty, I do declare!”

“That’s the meaning of those enormous packages of nuts and things from the store,” said Augusta, “that we thought were enough for an army.”

“But the table!” gasped Mrs. Primkins.  “For such a crowd!  Augusta,” hastily, “fly around like a parched pea, and lock the doors of that room, till I think what we can do.  This is a party with a vengeance!”

Augusta obeyed, and was none too quick, for the girls crowded into the front chamber before she had secured the doors.

Being a “party,” of course they had to go into the house.  But as soon as they had thrown off their slat sun-bonnets,—­which was in about one second,—­and began to look around the bare room, to see what they should do next, Nimpo was seized with a bright idea.

“Girls, let’s go out in the yard, and play till tea-time,” she said; and the next moment sun-bonnets were resumed, and the whole troop tramped down the back stairs, Nimpo not daring, even on this festive occasion, to disturb the silence of the solemn front hall, and the gorgeous colored stair-carpet.  In two minutes, they were deep in the game of “Pom-pom-peel-away,” and now was Mrs. Primkins’ chance.