Judith did as her mother directed, lit the lamp in the parlor and then cautiously opened the door. Nobody was there, but a large dress box was leaning against the door and fell into the hall when the door was opened. The girl picked it up and carried it into the parlor. "Mumsy! Come quick! I don't know what it is but it isn't a beau. Never mind your dress, but just come!" The string was broken by eager young hands, although Mrs. Buck begged to be allowed to pick out the knots. The top of the box was snatched off, disclosing much white tissue paper with a folded note pinned in the center. "It must be flowers," cried Judith. "I'm so excited I can't make up my mind to take off the wrappings. "Well, read the note! It's addressed to you," said Mrs. Buck. "It says: 'To Miss Judith Buck, from her old fairy god-fathers.' Oh, Mumsy, my old men are sending me some flowers, to wear to the ball, I guess. I'll clip the stems to keep them fresh." "Well, why don't you open 'em up?" Layer by layer Judith removed the tissue paper. At last the precious contents of the box were revealed--a white chiffon dress, delicately broidered with tiny gold beads, with a twisted girdle of blue with cloth of gold, a dainty blue comb set with brilliants. In a separate wrapper at one end of the box, gold slippers and stockings were discovered. "Oh, Mumsy! I'm going to cry," and Judith did shed a few tears and sob a few sobs. "Surely you are not going to accept clothes from any man, Judith." Mrs. Buck's tone was stern and disapproving. "Of course not from any one man, but this is from about ten men--the dear old men who are giving the ball! I wouldn't be so mean as not to accept this gift. What's more, I'm going to try the things on this minute. Look! There's even a silk slip to wear under it. Whoever bought this outfit knew how to buy. Mumsy, Mumsy! The slippers fit. Oh, I'm a real Cinderella, but the best thing about it is that the old men must truly love me, the dears." CHAPTER XII Jeff Gives a Pledge Until recently it had been the custom for Miss Ann Peyton, on every fine afternoon, to have old Billy drive her forth for an airing. It exercised the horses and gave Billy a definite occupation, besides affording some change of scene for his mistress. This habit of a lifetime had been abandoned because Miss Ann and Billy had come to a tacit understanding that the less the old coach was used the better for all concerned. Like the hoop skirt, little of the original creation remained. It had been repaired here and renewed there through the ages, until the body was all that the carriage maker would have acknowledged and that had many patches.