Gretel spoke pleadingly, and Jerry was somewhat mollified. He moved uneasily from one foot to the other. “Well, if you put it in that way,” he said, reluctantly, “I suppose I’ve got to promise, but it really would be a great satisfaction to punch that kid’s head.” Gretel could not help laughing. “Thank you, Jerry dear,” she said. “I know you are my friend, and want to help me when you can, but if you were to make any more trouble about this silly business, I should feel very badly indeed. I wouldn’t for the world have anything happen to make things uncomfortable for the Chesters. I’m as good an American as any of you, you know that, but I can’t help having a German name, and if people say disagreeable things, I’ve just got to make the best of it, and try not to mind.” “A very sensible conclusion,” said a pleasant voice close behind them, and Mrs. Cranston slipped an arm round Gretel’s waist. “I couldn’t help overhearing what you were saying, dear,” she added, as they went up-stairs together. “Steve has told me about that little episode this afternoon, and I think you acted with a good deal of dignity, and showed real common sense.” Gretel found Molly, Kitty, and Geraldine all eagerly discussing the events of the afternoon. “I really can’t stand Ada Godfrey,” Geraldine was declaring, as Gretel entered the room. “She must have said something horrid; that boy hinted as much.” “Oh, please don’t let’s talk any more about that,” urged Gretel, cheerfully. “Let’s forget all about it, and talk of something else. Molly, I see why you are so fond of your aunt. She is perfectly lovely and the most understanding person I’ve met in a long time.” CHAPTER IX THE DANCE ON THE FOURTH It was the glorious Fourth. The boys had been celebrating since early morning, when they had aroused the household by setting off a pack of giant crackers on the front lawn. There had been a picnic lunch in the woods, an exciting tennis tournament at the Country Club in the afternoon, and now they were dressing for the principal event of the day: the big subscription dance at the summer hotel, for which all the neighborhood had bought tickets. “It’s the first really grown-up party I’ve ever been to,” remarked Geraldine, as she stood before the bureau, brushing out her long hair. “I suppose I shall be the youngest girl there, and the boys won’t even look at me. Don’t you think, Gretel, I might try putting up my hair? I could take it right down again if it looked queer.” “I wouldn’t if I were you,” advised Gretel. “You are only fourteen, you know, and I don’t believe your mother would like it. You’ll have plenty of partners, I’m sure, even if your hair isn’t up. Stephen has promised to look after you, and as soon as people find out what a good dancer you are, they’ll all want to dance with you.”