For one instant, Mrs. Fisher faltered. She had come home in a state of utter exhaustion, and she longed to run away from the parlor and hide. But the next minute her courage came back to her, in the face of her roomful of guests, and she gave them as hearty a welcome as if the party had been one of her own making. Up and down the room she went, speaking a word here, shaking a hand there, all with the tact for which her hospitality was noted. She had sent one appealing glance towards Louise, and the girl, taking in the situation in a moment, had come to her aid, with Dr. Brownlee at her side. In a short time the room was buzzing with voices, as the guests entered into the full tide of conversation. Suddenly the dining-room door swung open, and Allie appeared on the threshold. "Please come out to supper, now," she said shyly, as she met her mother's surprised glance. There was another pause of uncertainty; then Mr. Everett offered his arm to Mrs. Fisher, and led the way to the table, where the guests seated themselves as they wished, gazing, meanwhile, with amused eyes at the feast before them. A short silence followed, and then the conversation started up once more, as Mr. Fisher, with one despairing glance at his wife, attacked the vast ham before him, and Mrs. Fisher began to pour out the pale, watery effusion which filled the teapot. Allie and Marjorie were already bestirring themselves to pass the plates and cups about the table; but all at once Marjorie paused abruptly, with her arm outstretched, as she gazed blankly this way and that. Then her face grew red and the sudden tears rushed to her eyes, as she hurried out of the room, with a gesture to Allie to follow her. "What is it, Marjorie?" Allie exclaimed in alarm, as the young hostess sank down into the wood box and buried her face in her hands. An inarticulate moan was her only answer. "Marjorie! Marjorie!" she urged again. "Tell me what's the matter. Are you ill?" Then Marjorie raised her head for a moment. "I'm all right," she said, with a great sob of shame; "but what shall we do, Allie? We ate up all the bread for breakfast, and I forgot to order any more." It was late that evening when the guests took their leave; and, as they went away down the street together, they said, over and over again, that Mrs. Fisher had never before been half so bright and witty in her talk, so quick to plan new modes of entertainment. Their hostess watched them out of sight; then, after an expressive look at her husband, she turned away from the door, and crossed the hall to Marjorie's room. All was dark within, as she opened the door and entered; but, as soon as her eyes had grown accustomed to the gloom, she went up to the bed, and laid her hand on a small, dark body, curled up on the white spread. "Marjorie, dear," she said gently. The childish figure was quivering with suppressed sobs; but there was no other answer. "Marjorie," she said again; "don't feel so badly about it, my child."