"Isn't it?" laughed Henrietta, shaking her brown curls. She wore them tied back with two enormous black bows. "Grandmother's a mixture of everything, you know--French, English, New York Dutch--and her furniture shows it. Lots of it came from Europe and Father picked up things in India and China--such a jolly dad as he is. That's why this place is such a jumble." "I like it," declared Jean. "It looks interesting--as if there were lovely stories in it." "There are," said Henrietta, drawing aside a heavy, silken curtain, "and I keep making new ones to fit. This is my bedroom, this next one is my dressing-room and this is my bath." "Ugh!" shuddered Mabel, "do you take shower baths?" "Every morning," laughed Henrietta. "What a lovely dressing table!" exclaimed Bettie, peering into the oval mirror and smiling into her own dark eyes. "I never saw such pretty things, even in a catalogue." "It's French," said Henrietta, "but all those little jeweled boxes came from Calcutta--Father just loves to buy little boxes with inlaid tops. Oh, here's Greta, with things to eat." Henrietta hastily swept her belongings from a dainty little table and the smiling maid deposited the heavy tray. "Tangerines, nuts, figs and sponge cake," chattered Henrietta. "That's very nice, Greta. Help yourselves to chairs, girls. Here's a tabouret for you, little Marjory. Catch, Jean," and the merry little hostess tossed a golden tangerine to Jean. "Oh, wait," she added. "You mustn't take off your gloves or get them soiled, because Grandmother always gets in about this time, and you know you must be very formal with Grandmother. I'll peel them for you. Now draw up closer. You mustn't spot your gloves, so I'll feed you. First, a bit of sponge cake all around. Now an almond. Now the orange. Oh, I'm forgetting myself! Now more sponge cake." "This is fine," said Bettie. "I'm always hungry after school." "So am I," said Jean. "If I'd s'posed," said Mabel, "that formal calls were like this, I'd have started sooner." "Are you a different person every time anybody sees you?" asked Bettie, curiously. "Why?" queried Henrietta. "Because," explained Bettie, "you seem so very changeable. You're a mischief in school, yesterday you seemed almost sad and to-day you're so polite." "Oh, _thank_ you," said Henrietta, rising to sweep a deep and very much exaggerated courtesy. "Nobody _ever_ before said that I was polite." "Miss Henrietta," said Greta, tapping at the door, "the carriage has just turned the corner." "Follow me," said Henrietta, with an instant change of tone, as she hurriedly brushed the crumbs from her lap and pulled Mabel's jacket into place. "Follow me and don't make a sound. It's time to be formal." CHAPTER XIX With Henrietta THROUGH a long corridor, around several corners and down two flights of back stairs, the formal callers, their hearts in their throats, followed Henrietta, who finally paused at the basement door.