"Read it," said his mother. Jerome took it, unfolded it, and read, Elmira and his mother watching him. Elmira was quite pale. Mrs. Edwards's mouth was set as if against anticipated opposition, her nervously gleaming eyes were fierce with ready argument. Jerome knit his brows over the letter, then he folded it nicely and gave it back to Elmira. "You see what it is?" said his mother. "Yes, I see," replied Jerome, hesitatingly. He looked confused before her, for one of the few times of his life. "An invitation for you an' Elmira to Squire Merritt's--to a party; it's Lucina's birthday," said his mother, and she fairly smacked her lips, as if the words were sweet. Elmira looked at her brother breathlessly. Nobody knew how eager she was to go; it was the first party worthy of a name to which she had been bidden in her whole life. She and her mother had been speculating, ever since the invitation had arrived, upon the possibility of Jerome's refusing to accept it. "Nobody can tell what he'll do," Mrs. Edwards had said. "He's just as likely to take a notion not to go as to go." "I can't go if he doesn't," said Elmira. "Why can't you, I'd like to know?" Elmira shrank timidly. "I never went into Squire Merritt's house in my life," said she. "I guess there ain't anything there to bite you," said her mother. "I'm goin' to say all I can to have your brother go; but if he won't, you can put on your new dress an' go without him." However, Mrs. Edwards privately resolved to use as an argument to Jerome, in case he refused to attend the party, the fact that his sister would not go without him. She used it now. Mrs. Edwards's military tactics were those of direct onslaught, and no saving of powder. "Elmira's afraid to go unless you do," said she. "You'll be keepin' her home, an' she ain't had a chance to go to many parties, poor child!" Jerome met Elmira's beseeching eyes and frowned aside, blushing like a girl. "Well, I don't know," said he; "I'll see." That was the provincial form of masculine concession to feminine importunity. Mrs. Edwards nodded to Elmira when Jerome had shut the door. "He'll go," said she. Elmira smiled and quivered with half-fearful delight. Lawrence Prescott was coming to see her the next day, and the day after that she would be sure to meet him again at Squire Merritt's. She trembled before her own happiness, as before an angel whose wings cast shadows of the dread of delight. "You'd better go to bed now," said her mother, with a meaning look; "you want to look bright to-morrow, and you've got a good deal before you."