“Oh, Martha,” cried Betty, “it’s more than a party—it’s a house-party! At a lovely country place,—Dorothy’s cousin’s,—and we’re to stay from Wednesday till Saturday! Isn’t that grand?”
It was so grand that Martha could scarcely realize it.
“I go?” she said. “For three whole days! Oh! what a party!”
“Yes, it’s going to be lovely,” said Dorothy. “A May party on Friday, and lots of picnics and things on the other days. Will you go with us, Martha?”
“Indeed, I will! I’m sure Mother’ll let me. But, girls, I don’t know if my clothes are good enough for such a grand place.”
“Oh, pshaw!” said Betty. “Don’t think about that. Just come on and have a good time, and never mind what you wear.”
Mrs. Taylor was delighted to have Martha go with the other girls, and at once set about furbishing up her wardrobe as best she could.
And, indeed, when at last the day came to start, Martha, in her trim, neat traveling-suit, looked almost as well dressed as the other two. They were to travel in charge of Mr. Halstead, Dorothy’s uncle, who was returning to his country home after a short business trip to Boston.
He was a genial, affable sort of man, but after a little kindly conversation he left the girls to entertain themselves, and became absorbed in his paper.
Martha was as happy as a bird. The prospect of the good time coming seemed to transform her, and she was so gay and merry that Dorothy concluded she had misjudged her, and that Betty was right about her.