Hiram knew that Lettie Bronson, after all, had her way with her father and that before the summer was over she had made him take her to one of the lake shore resorts where she met just the class of girls whom she had associated with at St. Beris. Since they had returned to Plympton, and during harvest and afterward, Miss Lettie had been to Sunnyside but seldom. Now that winter had come and Hiram Strong had some free hours, he began, as any other healthy and normal young fellow would, to long for some society besides that of his two comrades on the farm and Yancey Battick. Even Delia Pringle did not furnish all the "ladies' society" Hiram craved. And for some weeks about the only time he saw a girl was when he and Orrin hitched up Jerry and went to church on a Sunday morning. But he was not entirely forgotten by his employer's daughter. That fact became apparent the very day after the bewhiskered farmer and the lawyer searching for "Theodore Chester" had stopped at Sunnyside Farm. The postman brought Hiram a dainty envelope in which was an equally dainty missive in Lettie's rigid, upright handwriting. It was a warm little note--not at all the ordinary staid invitation to an evening party--and for a long time Hiram kept it in the bottom of his handkerchief box where some scent lay. Sister's letters, which now came with fortnightly regularity, he kept too. But he did not hide them under the flowered silk lining of his handkerchief box. The party at the Bronson house was to be--as Hiram supposed--rather a dressy affair. He had already prepared for it. He had sent his measurements as the advertised instructions directed to a catalogue house in Chicago and from there in due season arrived a "full tailored" dress suit. It fitted fairly well; but of course it was a block pattern garment, fitted with the tailor's "goose" rather than to Hiram's measurements. It fairly shrieked "ready made!" "You'll knock their eye out, Mr. Strong," declared Jim Larry, as Hiram appeared dressed for the revel, kid gloves and all. Hiram hoped he looked as good as Jim's enthusiasm suggested; but somehow he had his doubts. Besides Orrin, who had harnessed Jerry to the run-about for him and handed Hiram the reins after he got in the carriage, only said: "Hope you have a good time, Strong. My regards to the Bronsons." Orrin did not say a word about how fine Hiram looked in his new plumage. The young fellow began to feel a trifle anxious. He knew he felt uncomfortable. If by any chance he looked as bad as he felt-- He drove down to Plympton in rather high fettle, however, arriving at the Bronson house at the edge of town just as it was getting dark. The place was not lit up and there seemed to be few arrivals. First he wondered if he had mistaken the evening. Then he wondered if anything had happened--anything serious to Lettie or her father--and the party had been postponed.