However, she had promised to be good, and she looked as demure as St. Cecilia, as she sat quietly on the sofa with an eye on the behavior of her younger sisters. Kitty and Rosy Posy, both in freshly-laundered, white muslin frocks, also sat demurely, with folded hands, while King, rather restlessly, moved about the room, now and then looking from the window. "You children get on my nerves!" said Mr. Maynard, at last. "I begin to think you're not my own brood at all. Is it necessary, Mother, to have this solemn stillness, just because we expect some friends to see us?" Mrs. Maynard smiled. "These children," she said, "have no idea of moderation. It _isn't_ necessary for them to sit like wax-works, but if they didn't they'd be turning somersaults, or upsetting tables,--though, of course, they wouldn't mean to." "I daresay you're right," said Mr. Maynard, with a sigh, "and I do want them to behave like civilized beings, when our friends come." "There they are, now!" cried King, as the doorbell was heard. "But I don't see any carriage," he added, looking from the window. In a moment Sarah appeared with a telegram for Mrs. Maynard. "They are delayed," said that lady, prophetically, "and won't arrive till the next train." But this she said while she was opening the envelope. As she read the message, her face fell, and she exclaimed, "Oh, they're not coming at all." "Not coming?" said Mr. Maynard, taking the yellow paper. "No; Mrs. Crawford's sister is ill, and she can't leave her. Oh, I'm so disappointed!" "It is too bad, my dear; I'm very sorry for you. I wish they could have let you know sooner." "Yes, I wish so, too. Then we could have gone out to Grandma Sherwood's for the day." "Is it too late for that?" asked Marjorie, eagerly. "Can't we get ready, and fly off in a hurry?" "_You_ could," said her father, smiling. "And probably we all could. But Grandma Sherwood couldn't get ready for six starving savages in such short order. Moreover, I fancy Mother has a larder full of good things here that must be eaten by somebody. What shall we do, Helen?" "I don't know, Ed. I'll leave it to you. Plan anything you like." "Then I'll leave it to the children. Speak up, friends. Who would you like to ask to eat Thanksgiving dinner with you?" The children considered. "It ought to be somebody from out of town," said Marjorie. "That makes it seem more like a special party." "I'll tell you!" exclaimed Kitty. "Let's ask Molly Moss." "Just the one!" cried Marjorie. "How'd you come to think of her, Kit? But I 'most know her people won't let her come, and there isn't time, anyway." "There's time enough," said Mr. Maynard. "I'll call them up on the long-distance telephone now. Then if Molly can come, they can put her on the train to-morrow morning, and we'll meet her here. But I doubt if her mother will spare her on Thanksgiving Day."