“Well, then, that disposes of four girls, and there are two bedrooms besides mine on the second floor. Yes--” she was noting two or three things to attend to, as she talked--“we can put eight girls up, if John will move out.” “Of course I will!” he replied, readily. “Then really the only thing that worries me is the dining room,” she concluded. “Do you suppose we could get eleven people around our small table?” “I’d just as soon be waitress,” offered Dorothy; “and that would bring the number down to ten.” “Indeed you won’t!” protested Mrs. Hadley. “When the party is given in your honor!” “Suppose Dorothy and I both be ‘waitresses’?” suggested John. “That would be only fair, if you do the cooking.” “I thought I’d get Eliza in to cook,” said his mother. “That’s a good idea!” commented John. “Still, I stick to the waitress plan. I think I’d make a hit in a cap and apron.” Dorothy laughed at the picture of John in a waitress’s costume, and she too urged Mrs. Hadley to let them adopt the plan. “Well, whatever you like,” said the older woman. “And now since it’s all settled, I guess I had better go write the letter.” But before she had reached her desk, the door-bell rang, and she went to answer it. A telegraph messenger asked whether Mr. John Hadley lived there. “Yes,” replied Mrs. Hadley, mechanically taking the envelope and signing the paper. Then, closing the door she handed the telegram to her son. “I suppose your firm want you to go to New York or Boston, or some such place again,” she said with resignation. “They seem to expect to send you all over the globe.” John smiled, and tore open the telegram. “By George, I’ve got a real trip this time!” he exclaimed. “Two places in California, and a stop in Wyoming on the way back!” Neither Mrs. Hadley nor Dorothy shared the young man’s enthusiasm; they were both thinking how lonely it would be for them, with him away for such a long time. “And how long will you be gone?” asked Mrs. Hadley, making a supreme effort to hide her dismay. “I don’t know. This says a letter follows.” “I wonder whether you start right from here.” “Probably,” answered John, “or they would hardly have telegraphed.” “Will this--” began Dorothy, hesitating for a second--“will this mean that our house-party has to be given up?” “Certainly not!” replied John. “I’ll surely be back by September, and even if I weren’t, it would be all right to have it without me.” Neither woman said anything further; but Dorothy noticed that Mrs. Hadley gave up all idea of writing the invitation, for the time being, at least. Somehow, the house-party would seem flat without the presence of its originator, and neither of the others cared to press it. They busied themselves with the supper, and with the inspection of John’s clothing, to be in readiness for the hasty summons that would probably come late that night.