"Won't we be glad when we haven't to wait any longer to know just what kind of a party it is?" said Sprite.
"Oh, yes," agreed Princess Polly, "and so will ever so many other people, for I've heard people talking about it, and saying that they were tired of guessing, and that they wished they knew now, instead of having to wait still longer to know."
"It won't be very long now before they know," Rose said, laughing gaily.
The secret was out, because the invitations were out.
Captain John Atherton, the genial master of the beautiful home at Cliffmore, known as "The Cliffs," and of an equally beautiful estate at Avondale, was to marry the girl whom he had always faithfully loved.
The misunderstanding that had parted them had come about because of the loss of a miniature of the girl, Iris Vandmere.
Its loss had grieved John Atherton.
He could not imagine how it could have so completely vanished. In truth, it had been stolen, but Iris thought that her lover must have valued it lightly, believing if he had properly guarded it, it could not have been taken from him. One word had led to another, and she had sent him away, grieving and wretched.
Her own heart was not less sad, but she had endeavored to hide that. Then, on that lucky day of the Summer before, Princess Polly had found the exquisite miniature lying in the middle of the sandy road.