“Why, Tom,” said she, “did you really come?”

“As you see, Cousin Fanny.  Paul gave me the invitation, with my little wife’s love; and how could I decline?”

“I am sure it is very good of you to come and help entertain; but I am afraid it will be a sad bore.  Miss Minnie Wall, the oldest of the young ladies, is but just fourteen; and Bessie Rider, the youngest, is not yet six.”

“But I came to visit my little wife,” persisted Mr. Burroughs, laughing gayly.

“Here she is, then, with all the rest behind her;” and, as the little hostess caught sight of her new guest, she flew toward him, crying,—­

“Oh, my little wife has come!—­my little, wife!”

Every one laughed, except the young man thus oddly addressed, who gravely extended his hand, saying,—­

“Miss ’Toinette, allow me to wish you many happy returns of this fortunate day.”

’Toinette looked at him a moment in surprise, then, glancing at the other guests, said innocently,—­

“I guess you talk that way because the girls are here; but I like the way you are always, best.”

This time Tom laughed as loud as the rest, and, catching the child in his arms, kissed her a dozen times, saying,—­

“That is it, Sunshine.  Let us be natural, and have a good time.  Get the table-cloth, and make an elephant of me.”

CHAPTER III.

Cherrytoe.

“Let us have a dance!” exclaimed Minnie Wall, when all the games had been played, and the little people stood for a moment, wondering what they should do next.

“O Mrs. Legrange! will you play for us?”

“Certainly.  What will you have, Minnie?  But, in the first place, can you all dance?”

“Yes’m, every one of us.  Even ’Toinette and Bessie have learned at their Kindergarten; and the rest of us all go to Mr. Papanti.  O Mrs. Legrange! last Saturday, when you let Susan bring ’Toinette to dancing-school, I told Mr. Papanti what a pretty little dancer she was; and he made her stand up, and she learned the cachuca with half a dozen others of us; and he did laugh and bow so at her, you never saw; and he called her enfant Cherrytoe, or something like that”—­

“Cerito,” suggested Mrs. Legrange, smiling.

“Yes’m, I guess that was it; and she learned it beautifully.  Have you seen her dance it?”

“Yes, the old gentleman called me Cherrytoe; and you must, mamma, and every one, because I dance so pretty, with my little toes.  Will you call me Cherrytoe always, mamma?” asked ’Toinette, with such a complacent delight in her own accomplishments, that her mother’s smile was sad as it was tender.  But she felt that this was not the time or place to reprove the vanity so rankly springing in the child’s heart; so she only said,—­

“Mr. Papanti was in fun when he called you Cherrytoe, darling.  She was a woman who danced better than I hope you ever will.  Now, who is ready for Virginia reel?”