"But I am afraid I shall feel lonely, and out of place," Marion said; "you know I am never invited to parties." Flossy laughed. "Wouldn't it be a strange sight to see you feeling out of place?" she asked, gaily. "Marion, I can't conceive of a place to which you wouldn't do credit." Whereupon Marion arose and made a low courtesy. "Thank you," she said, in mock gravity. "I never had a compliment before in my life; I shall certainly come; there is nothing like a little flattery to win people." "Don't be nonsensical," pleaded Flossy; "I am really in earnest. Ruth, I may depend upon you? I know you are not going to entertainments this winter, but mine is to be a small one, compared with the others; and you know it will be unlike any that we have had at our house." Ruth hesitated. "When is it to be?" she asked, her cheeks glowing over her own thoughts. "I shall be engaged on Friday evening of next week." "It is to be on Wednesday." "Then I will come. And if I play, Marion, will you sing to entertain the unusual guests?" "Of course," Marion said, promptly. "I never sang in company in my life; but do you suppose there is anything I will not do for Flossy's guests, after what she has just said? Only, Flossy, I shall have to wear my black cashmere." "Wear your brown calico, if you choose; you look royal in it," Flossy said, turning a beaming face on Marion. She had heard her sing, she knew what a rare musical treat it would be to those boys of hers. So this was Flossy's last departure from the beaten track. Those who are familiar with the imperative laws and lines which circumscribe the fashionable world will realize just how marked a departure it was. It was a remarkable party. The very highest and most sought after of the fashionable world were there, a few of them, and John Warden was there in his new business suit of grey, looking and feeling like a man. Flossy's boys were all present, and those who knew of them and their associations and advantages, marvelled much at their ease of manner and perfect propriety of behaviour. How could they have learned so much? Flossy did not know, herself, but the boys did. Her exquisite grace of manner, her perfect observance of all the rules and courtesies of polite society in her intercourse with them, had produced its legitimate fruit; had instinctively inclined them to be able to treat her with the same sort of grace which she freely and everywhere bestowed on them. Had she not met them on the street, in the very heart of Broadway when she was walking with some of her fashionable friends? Had she not taken pains to recognize them with a specially cordial bow, and if near enough, with a deliberate speaking of their names, being sure to slightly emphasize the unusual prefix "Mr."