But Edith understood her, and parried all her little mean thrusts, and, when questioned before the young ladies of her life in England and the people she knew, answered that she knew nobody except the families where she had taught, and spoke unhesitatingly of her mother, who took lodgers to eke out her slender income; and, when Miss Rossiter suggested to her that it might be as well not to speak of her mother’s lodgers, and offered her advice on certain points of etiquette, telling her it was better not to laugh quite so much, and that such and such dresses were not just the thing for certain occasions, Edith answered good-humoredly, and thanked Miss Rossiter for her advice; but laughed just the same, and shocked the spinster every day at dinner with the sight of her fair, creamy arms and neck, and devoutly wished the lady would return to New York, and leave her in peace. But Miss Rossiter was in no haste to do this; she was averse to exertion of any kind, and found her brother in law’s home so much to her taste and the bride so much better than she had feared, that she had decided to remain in Hampstead until after the grand party, which was to be given at Schuyler Hill, and for which great preparations were making, both in the kitchen, where Mrs. Tiffe was in the full tide of cake and cream and jelly, and in the town, where everybody with any claim to society expected an invitation. Mine came to the school-room, and I read it after school, with Gertie standing at my side and looking over my shoulder. “Oh, that’s the party I’ve heard about! They are to have a band and lights in the trees, and colored waiters in white gloves, and everything. Oh, I wish I could go! Do you think they will invite children like me?” Gertie said, excitedly. It did not occur to her that there could be any reason why she should not be invited except that she was a child, and I did not enlighten her, but said she was probably too young. The next morning her face was very bright as she told me what she had heard from Norah, who was down to see her mother. Mrs. Rogers was to assist in the evening, and Gertie was to go, too, and perhaps see the dancing from some post of observation, while Norah had promised to ask Mrs. Schuyler if she might come in and see her after she was dressed, and before she went down stairs. “And then,” Gertie added, “next week they are to have the Church Sociable, and everybody goes to that, you know, and auntie is to do up my muslin dress, and I shall dance, maybe with Mr. Godfrey. Oh, I wish it was now!”