“Grant Stowe said you had the prettiest eyes of any girl here to-night. I heard him tell Jennie Brown so when she asked him whether he liked blue eyes or brown best. She is the awfulest thing–always fishing for compliments.”
This was generous of Mamie, for Grant was the one who had passed her by so recently. But Katy’s eyes were also distanced and Mamie had been very much thrilled by hearing that Ernest might go to Annapolis. Further, he had chosen her twice that evening. She felt amiably disposed toward Ernest’s sister.
When the tales of past glories were exhausted, the conversation grew intermittent, being punctuated by frequent yawns. They were just on the point of 154dropping off to sleep when Mamie suddenly opened her eyes and sat up in bed with a jerk.
“Music! Don’t you hear it? I shouldn’t wonder if some of the boys were out serenading. Oh, I do hope they’ll come here.”
Katy and Chicken Little listened breathlessly.
“It is!”
“Yes, and it’s coming nearer.”
All three hopped out of bed and crouched down by the window. The moon was setting, but there was still a faint radiance. The strains were growing more distinct.
“I bet it’s Grant Stowe and his two cousins from the Prairie Hill district. They are staying all night with him and are going to the picnic to-morrow. Don’t you remember that red-headed boy?”
“It sounds like a banjo and guitar,” said Katy. “Oh, I do love a guitar. It always makes me think of ‘Gaily the troubadour.’” Katy gave a wriggle of delight at this romantic ending to the night’s festivities. She was already planning to tell the girls at home about the wonderful serenade.