It is superfluous to say that for the rest of the day the two were in a wild state of excitement. While Ellen despised snobbishness, she nevertheless could not but feel an inward pride in her new friend, not so much because of her wealth, but because of her little high-bred air, her gracious, unaffected manner, free from any _gaucherie_. Mabel could not lay claims to great beauty, but her small, well-set head, her fine carriage, her wide-open, frank, blue eyes set rather widely apart, the unmistakable elegance of her dress, all distinguished her. Caro at first was disposed to be jealous, but was soon won over by Mabel’s sweetness, and was the first to sound her praises to an eager circle, Florence Ives among them, and it must be confessed that Caro was overweeningly boastful in the presence of this young person. “I always told you that Ellen had lovely friends in the city,” she said triumphantly. “I believe I’ll give a little tea to-morrow and ask Ellen to bring Miss Wickham,” said Florence, much impressed, and always on the lookout for desirable acquaintances. “You can spare yourself the trouble,” replied Caro coolly, “for she leaves to-morrow.” “O dear!” sighed Florence, and was further chagrined when Frank reported that he, with Claude Fawcett and Julius Safford, had been asked to take supper at Dr. Rowe’s to meet Miss Wickham. In this small town the old-fashioned custom of a midday dinner and a substantial supper was still in vogue. “Of course Ellen will be there,” said Frank complacently, and again Florence sighed. There were always jolly times for the young people when they met at Dr. Rowe’s. The doctor himself was a jovial soul, while Mrs. Rowe was sympathetic and motherly, never frowning upon youthful nonsense, and always ready to indulge her only child in dispensing such hospitality as pleased her. Consequently Caro’s invitations were never refused, for, as the boys said, “You are sure of good eats when you go to the Rowes’”; and with boys this counted for much, “greedy creatures as they are,” Caro was wont to remark. They never hesitated to express their appreciation, however, and declared it was not all loaves and fishes which brought them to the house. “You are such a good sport, Caro,” Clyde told her, “and you don’t treat us like company. We don’t have to just sit on chairs and pay compliments; you don’t even mind a little rough-house as long as we don’t break up the furniture, and you don’t get mad if we jolly you, so that’s why we always like to come.” Mabel was told all this when at first she hesitated at going to the house of utter strangers. “I’m here for such a short time,” she said, “and I don’t know them at all. Should I be so informal?”