All would have gone well if some one had not privately introduced something stronger than the cider provided by the Squire,--a mysterious and potent something, which caused several of the young men to betray that they were decidedly the worse for their libations. That was serious enough; but the crowning iniquity was the putting of brandy into the coffee, which it was considered decorous for the young girls to prefer instead of cider. Who the reprobates were remained a dead secret, for the young men laughed off the dreadful deed as a joke, and the Squire apologized in the handsomest manner. But the girls felt much aggrieved and would not be appeased, though the elders indulgently said, "Young men will be young men," even while they shook their heads over the pranks played and the nonsense spoken under the influence of the wine that had been so slyly drank. Now what should be done about it? The "Sweet P's" knew that their mates would look to them for guidance at this crisis, for they were the leaders in all things. So they must decide on some line of conduct for all to adopt, as the best way of showing their disapproval of such practical jokes. When Pris spoke, the others looked at her with surprise; for there was a new expression in her face, and both asked wonderingly, "How?" "There are several ways, and we must decide which is the best. One is to refuse invitations to the sociable next week." "But I've just got a lovely new dress expressly for it!" cried Portia, tragically. "Then we might decline providing any supper," began Pris. "That wouldn't prevent the boys from providing it, and I never could get through the night without a morsel of something!" exclaimed Polly, who loved to see devoted beings bending before her, with offerings of ice, or struggling manfully to steer a glass of lemonade through a tumultuous sea of silk and broadcloth, feeling well repaid by a word or smile from her when they landed safely. "True, and it _would_ be rather rude and resentful; for I am sure they will be models of deportment next time," and gentle Pris showed signs of relenting, though that foolish joke bad cost her more than either of the others. For a moment all sat gazing thoughtfully at the fire, trying to devise some awful retribution for the sinners, no part of which should fall upon themselves. Suddenly Polly clapped her hands, crying with a triumphant air,-- "I've got it, girls! I've got it!" "What? How? Tell us quick!" "We _will_ refuse to go to the first sociable, and that will make a tremendous impression, for half the nice girls will follow our lead, and the boys will be in despair. Every one will ask why we are not there; and what can those poor wretches say but the truth? Won't that be a bitter pill for my lords and gentlemen?" "It will certainly be one to us," said Portia, thinking of the "heavenly blue dress" with a pang.