“Why, it’s Mr. Randolph!” discovered Miss Mullaly.

“Yes, he has tire trouble, I see.”

The president of the Home was already talking with those ahead.

Polly came back.

“Mr. Randolph and Miss Puddicombe,” she whispered.  “He is introducing her to the ladies.”

Miss Sterling nodded and shrank away.

“I don’t want to meet her,” she objected.  “I wonder if they’d notice if we should cut across this lot.”

“Oh, don’t!  I’m afraid they would.”

The other looked longingly toward the way of escape while she walked on with Polly.

Juanita Sterling and Blanche Puddicombe stood face to face, a smiling “How do you do, Miss Puddicombe!” on one side, a gushing “I’m charmed to meet you!” on the other, with a gingerly hand-shake between.

Nelson Randolph was too busy with his tire for much talking, and, as early as decency would allow, Miss Sterling by degrees slipped into the background,

“Let’s go on,” she whispered, taking Miss Leatherland’s arm.

The others straggled after, by twos and threes.

“Why didn’t you stay longer?” questioned Polly, overtaking her friend.

“There was nothing to stay for,” she laughed.

“Miss Puddicombe said she would like to get acquainted with you.”  Polly’s tone had the inflection of disappointment.

“Very kind of her,” was the quiet comment.

Polly glanced whimsically at Miss Sterling’s face.  “I guess that is the grove you were speaking of,” was what she said.

Many of the ladies were glad to stop, and scattered stones and mossy logs made pleasant resting places.

Doodles played delightfully and finally slipped into a waltz.

“Oh, my feet just won’t stay still!” cried Miss Crilly.  “Come on, Polly!” And the two went dancing through the wood.

“It’s better over there in the pasture,” said Polly, as they came to a sudden halt against a big pine.

“Let’s try it!” Miss Crilly pulled her forward, and over they ran, hand in hand.

“Doodles!  Doodles!” they called.

The boy and the violin were quickly there, and Patricia and the young folks ran after.

“Oh, this is lovely!  Better come and try it!”—­“The very dandiest place!” cried the dancers as they stopped for breath.

Miss Major, Miss Mullaly, and others came laughing into the open.

Doodles played with zest, everybody was in merry mood, and the dance went gayly on.

Polly suddenly ran into the grove for her beloved Miss Nita.

“You must!  You must!” she declared, as Miss Sterling doubtfully shook her head.  “You don’t know how much nicer it is to dance outdoors!  Come!”

She hesitated, but the music was inspiring, and impulsively tossing all else aside she skipped on with Polly.

Along the road jogged a buggy, and the driver stared at the unusual sight.  Then he stopped his horse.