The little white cottage had been remodeled and furnished prettily, and Polly Haddon had grown prosperous and handsome and oh, so happy.
But the most remarkable thing to the girls was the change in Mary and Isabel and Peter Haddon. The children, who had been such sorry little waifs in their poverty, had grown almost beautiful in the days of their prosperity. Polly Haddon’s pride in them and their pretty clothes was almost pathetic.
The North Bend girls and Connie were often visitors at the little cottage, and sometimes the boys went with them on their visits and were treated to a dinner of waffles and maple syrup that, to quote Chet, “would make an Indian’s hair curl.”
And now, as the girls realized how fast the time was flying, they conceived the idea of giving a party. Not a small party, but a real one with cake and ice-cream and snappers and everything.
“I wonder,” breathed Vi daringly, “if Miss Walters would mind if we should ask a few of the boys—just a very few, you know.”
“There would have to be enough to go around,” interposed Billie.
“I should say so!” said Connie with emphasis. “Especially as Billie is sure to have at least two of them. I want to dance with Teddy and Paul Martinson once or twice myself, my dear,” she said, eyeing the laughing Billie sternly.
“And I’m quite sure dear Rose will, too—especially Teddy,” murmured Laura, maliciously.
They found that Miss Walters was quite willing to let them have the party and the boys, too—provided the latter did not stay too late—and then the plans began in earnest.
They sent invitations to about twenty of the boys at the Academy and the invitations were accepted promptly and eagerly.