After a while, when they could talk rationally again, she said: “Do you think they will come to my party?” “I hope not—By Heaven!” “But—oh, yes! We have made all preparations.” “What does that matter! Ten thousand folks here to-day——!” “Not ten thousand—only five or six. I shall be wild if they can’t come.” “You want them?” “We have asked them—and everything is ready—and I do want us to have a party one day.” “But to-day—damn it all, Lettie!” “But I did want my party to-day. Don’t you think they’ll come?” “They won’t if they’ve any sense!” “You might help me——” she pouted. “Well I’ll be—! and you’ve set your mind on having a houseful of people to-day?” “You know how we look forward to it—my party. At any rate—I know Tom Smith will come—and I’m almost sure Emily Saxton will.” He bit his moustache angrily, and said at last: “Then I suppose I’d better send John round for the lot.” “It wouldn’t be much trouble, would it?” “No _trouble_ at all.” “Do you know,” she said, twisting the ring on her finger. “It makes me feel as if I tied something round my finger to remember by. It somehow remains in my consciousness all the time.” “At any rate,” said he, “I have got you.” After dinner, when we were alone, Lettie sat at the table, nervously fingering her ring. “It is pretty, mother, isn’t it?” she said a trifle pathetically. “Yes, very pretty. I have always liked Leslie,” replied my mother. “But it feels so heavy—it fidgets me. I should like to take it off.” “You are like me, I never could wear rings. I hated my wedding ring for months.” “Did you, mother?” “I longed to take it off and put it away. But after a while I got used to it.” “I’m glad this isn’t a wedding ring.” “Leslie says it is as good,” said I. “Ah well, yes! But still it is different—” She put the jewels round under her finger, and looked at the plain gold band—then she twisted it back quickly, saying: “I’m glad it’s not—not yet. I begin to feel a woman, little mother—I feel grown up to-day.” My mother got up suddenly and went and kissed Lettie fervently. “Let me kiss my girl good-bye,” she said, and her voice was muffled with tears. Lettie clung to my mother, and sobbed a few quiet sobs, hidden in her bosom. Then she lifted her face, which was wet with tears, and kissed my mother, murmuring: “No, mother—no—o—!” About three o’clock the carriage came with Leslie and Marie. Both Lettie and I were upstairs, and I heard Marie come tripping up to my sister.