“It’s Durward’s handwriting,” said she, glancing at the superscriptions, and reading as she did so—“Mr. and Mrs. Livingstone”—“Mr. John Livingstone, Jr.”—“Miss Carrie Livingstone”—“Miss Anna Livingstone”—“_Miss ’Lena Rivers_;” and here she stopped, in utter dismay, continuing, as her mother looked up inquiringly—“And as I live, one for _grandma_—‘MRS. MARTHA NICHOLS!’” “Impossible!” exclaimed Mrs. Livingstone, reaching out her hand for the billet. “Yes, ’tis Mrs. Martha Nichols!—what can it mean?” A peep behind the scenes would have told her what it meant. For once in his life Mr. Graham had exercised the right of being master in his own house, declaring that if Mrs. Nichols were not invited with the family, there should be no party at all. Mrs. Graham saw that he was in earnest, and yielded the point, knowing that in all probability the old lady would not be permitted to attend. Her husband had expected a like opposition with regard to ’Lena, but he was disappointed, for his wife, forgetting her declaration that ’Lena should never darken her doors and thinking it would not do to slight her, consented that, on her uncle’s account, she should be invited. Accordingly, the notes were despatched, producing the effect we have seen. “How perfectly ridiculous to invite grandma!” said Carrie. “It’s bad enough to have ’Lena stuck in with us, for of course _she’ll_ go.” “Why of course?” asked Mrs. Livingstone. “The invitations are at my disposal now; and if I choose to withhold two of them, no one will be blamed but Nero, who was careless and dropped them! ’Lena has nothing decent to wear, and I don’t feel like expending much more for a person so ungrateful as she is. You ought to have heard how impudent she was that time you all went to Woodlawn.” Then followed a one-sided description of that morning’s occurrence, Mrs. Livingstone working herself up to such a pitch of excitement, that before her recital was finished, she had determined at all events to keep back ’Lena’s invitation, as a method of punishing her for her “insolence,” as she termed it. “Mrs. Graham will thank me for it, I know,” said she, “for she cannot endure her; and besides that, I don’t think ’Lena expects to be invited, so there’s no harm done.” Carrie was not yet quite so hardened as her mother, and for a moment her better nature shrank from so mean a transaction, which might, after all, be found out, involving them in a still worse difficulty; but as the thought flashed upon her that possibly ’Lena might again attract Durward toward her, she assented, and they were about putting the notes aside, when John Jr. came in, catching up his grandmother’s note the first thing, and exclaiming, “Oh, _rich_!—_capital_! I hope she’ll go!” Then, before his mother could interpose a word, he darted away in quest of Mrs. Nichols, whose surprise was fully equal to that of Mrs. Livingstone and Carrie.