"Well," said John Thomas, going down on his knees before the baskets again, "if it _is_ true,--if it is Miss Beatrice he fancies, why, then, he won't find no rival in me." "Miss Billy, where are you?" called Beatrice, around the corner of the house. "Margaret is here, and looking everywhere for you." Miss Billy hurried away, and in another moment, in the full glare of a headlight, had her arms around the neck of a tall handsome girl, who was returning the salutation with interest. "Billy!" remonstrated the newcomer laughingly. "You have a hug like a bear! You've spoiled my hair and crushed my attire. And I am in one of my best dresses, too, I'll give you to understand! I've brought six of the girls along with me, and we've pledged ourselves to put a dollar each in the box, and help make the thing go." "Oh, but it's good to see you again," breathed Miss Billy. "My cup runneth over! I have a thousand things to say to you. Where shall I commence first?" "Defer it till to-morrow," counselled Margaret. "We shall visit all day. Your time to-night belongs to the lawn fête, not to me,--and I am here to help you. Introduce me instantly to your Marie Jean Hennesy, and to your lady of letters with the six children, and I want to see every flower in the child garden, and Theodore,--oh, but first of all, let me meet your remarkable Francis Lindsay. Billy, your letters have taken on a suspicious tone of late!" They locked arms in schoolgirl fashion, and came upon Marie Jean, who was presiding over a lemonade table. Miss Billy introduced them, and the two types of girlhood, one representing fashion in Cherry Street, the other the gentle blood of Ashurst Place, gazed intently at each other. Marie Jean was gotten up in a style known as "regardless." She wore a sweeping black lace dress covered with spangles, that might have graced a coronation ceremony. The sleeves terminated at the elbows in two large puffs of blue satin, and her wrists tinkled with bracelets and bangles. Her hair was bushed in heavy frizzes over her ears, and in the untidy waves piled high on the top of her head gleamed a crescent of Rhine stones. [Illustration: Marie Jean was gotten up in a style known as "regardless."]