The four Corners

by Amy Ella Blanchard

Daniella's becoming a part of the household made less of a change than the girls had expected, for Aunt Sarah managed well, and spread out her economies so that they covered all meals very slightly, and the extras were little missed. When one has rice pudding once a week instead of once in ten days, or when griddle-cakes are served only on Saturdays instead of Wednesdays and Saturdays, it really makes little difference.

However a time did come when the sacrifice loomed up more largely and for a time there were four rather unhappy little girls. It was just after a neat maid left at the door four small white envelopes which, when opened, were discovered to be invitations to a party given by Betty Wise, a little girl who was not an intimate acquaintance, but whom each of the four Corners admired greatly. Betty lived in such a beautiful old house, two hundred years old, and was considered to belong to one of the best families in the county. The grounds around the house were always in beautiful order; Betty herself was the most daintily clad of little maidens, and in church the four girls who sat in a row in the pew behind her gave many a thought to Betty Wise's pretty hats, handsome coats, and the delicate ribbons she always wore on her hair. To be invited to Judge Wise's house was an honor not to be underrated and the four Corners clutched their envelopes and looked at each other with shining eyes.

"Isn't it splendid?" said Nan. "A real sure enough party. I expect it will be perfectly beautiful. It was so perfectly lovely of Betty to invite all four of us."

"It certainly was lovely," sighed Mary Lee, "but, Nan, what are we going to wear?"

Nan's face fell. What indeed? She hastily made an inventory of her last summer's white frocks. Not one that would do. "We can manage something for Jack and Jean, I am sure," she said, "though there isn't one of us has a decent sash, and as for slippers, Jean is the only one who has a pair that will do."

Deep gloom fell upon the little group. The silence was broken by Mary Lee. "We can't ask Aunt Sarah, for we promised that we would not have a single thing new this winter if she would let us have Daniella. I almost wish we had never gone up that old mountain."

"Oh, don't say that, Mary Lee," said Nan. "Just think what would have become of Daniella if we hadn't gone. She might have perished by this time."

"Oh, of course, I don't exactly mean that, but I wish, I almost wish, we had not insisted upon keeping her here." It was so nearly the actual wish at that moment of the other three that no one said a word.

After a pause, Nan drew a long sigh. "Well," she said, "you and I can't possibly go, but perhaps we can fix up the twins. Jean is all right and there is a frock of yours that would do on a pinch for Jack if we can manage slippers. We can look over the stock. She may have grown up to some of our castaways, and even if we should find a pair a little too large, we can stuff cotton in the toes. As for sashes we'll have to look over everything and see what we come across."

"I don't want to go if you don't, so there," said Jack.