SILVER PITCHERS.
ANNA'S WHIM.
TRANSCENDENTAL WILD OATS.
THE ROMANCE OF A SUMMER DAY.
MY ROCOCO WATCH.
BY THE RIVER.
LETTY'S TRAMP.
SCARLET STOCKINGS.
INDEPENDENCE: A CENTENNIAL LOVE STORY.
"We can do nothing about it except show our displeasure in some propermanner," said Portia, in her most dignified tone.
"I should like to cut them all dead for a year to come; and I'm notsure that I won't!" cried Pauline, fiercely.
"We ought to make it impossible for such a thing to happen again, andI think we might," added Priscilla, so decidedly that the otherslooked at her in surprise.
The three friends sat by the fire "talking things over," as girls loveto do. Pretty creatures, all of them, as they nestled together on thelounge in dressing-gowns and slippers, with unbound hair, eyes stillbright with excitement, and tongues that still wagged briskly.
Usually the chat was of dresses, compliments, and all the littleadventures that befall gay girls at a merry-making. But to-nightsomething of uncommon interest absorbed the three, and kept them talkingearnestly long after they should have been asleep.
Handsome Portia looked out from her blonde locks with a disgustedexpression, as she sipped the chocolate thoughtful mamma had left insidethe fender. Rosy-faced Pauline sat staring indignantly at the fire;while in gentle Priscilla's soft eyes the shadow of a real sorrow seemedto mingle with the light of a strong determination.
Yes, something had happened at this Thanksgiving festival which muchoffended the three friends, and demanded grave consideration on theirpart; for the "Sweet P's," as Portia, Pris, and Polly were called, werethe belles of the town. One ruled by right of beauty and position, oneby the power of a character so sweet and strong that its influence waswidely felt, and one by the wit and winsomeness of a high yet generousspirit.
It had been an unusually pleasant evening, for after the quilting bee inthe afternoon good Squire Allen had given a bountiful supper, and allthe young folks of the town had joined in the old-fashioned games, whichmade the roof ring with hearty merriment.
All would have gone well if some one had not privately introducedsomething stronger than the cider provided by the Squire,—a mysteriousand potent something, which caused several of the young men to betraythat they were decidedly the worse for their libations.
That was serious enough; but the crowning iniquity was the putting ofbrandy into