"Quite a bunch for you, Nansome," and Patty tossed a lot of letters in Nan's lap. "And a whole lot of beautiful, fat envelopes for me. 'Most all invitations, as you can see at a glance. Two or three requests for charity,--they show on the outside, too. A few bills, a few circulars and advertisements, and all the rest invitations. Isn't it gorgeous, Nan, to be invited to such heaps of things?" "Don't wear yourself out, Patty," returned Nan, a little absent-mindedly, being absorbed in a letter from her mother. Having weeded out the more interesting looking letters, Patty returned to her sofa, and curled up there with both feet under her, looking like a very pretty and very civilised little Turk. With a slender paper cutter she slashed all the envelopes, and then went through them one by one, making running comments of delight or indifference as she read the various contents. But suddenly a more excited exclamation broke from her. "Oh, my goodness, gracious, sakes alive!" she cried. "Nan, _will_ you listen to this!" "Wait a minute, honey, till I finish this letter," and Nan went on reading to herself. Patty dashed through eight pages of sprawly penmanship, and as soon as she finished she read it all over again. "Now, Miss Fairfield, what's it all about?" and Nan folded her own letter and returned it to its envelope. "Well, in a nutshell, it's a Christmas Country House Party! Could anything be more delightfuller?" "Who, where, what, when?" And Nan patiently awaited further enlightenment. "Oh, Nan, it's _too_ gorgeous!" And Patty's eyes ran through the letter again. "You know Adele Kenerley, who was down at Mona's last summer,--well, she and Jim have bought a place at Fern Falls,--wherever that may be,--somewhere up in Connecticut,--in the Berkshires, you know. Heavenly in summer, dunno what it'll be in winter. But all the same that's where the house party is, Christmas,--stay two or three weeks,--all our crowd,--oh, Nan! isn't it beatific!" Patty bounded to her feet, and gathering up the sides of her accordion-pleated gown, she executed a triumphant dance about the room, winding up by kicking her little blue silk slipper straight over Nan's head. "Moderate your transports, my love," Nan said, calmly. "I don't want concussion of the brain, from being hit by a French heel." "Not much of a compliment to my skilful ballet dancing," and Patty flung herself into the cushions again. "But, Nan, you don't understand; everybody's going! Elise and Mona and the boys, and oh, gracious, _do_ show some enthusiasm!" "Don't have to," said Nan, smiling, "when you show enough for a dozen." "Well, I'll call up Mona, she'll have something to say." Patty reached for the telephone, and in a few moments both girls were talking at once, and the conversation ran something like this: "Yes, I did, and, Patty----" "Of course I am! Oh, I don't know about that! If I----" "But of course if Daisy is there----" "Well, we can't help that, and anyway----"