that there will be some way by which you can go to the wedding. Only I will admit that I am puzzled.”
“What’s this about the wedding?” asked cousin Joan fretfully that afternoon. “Have they given you an invitation after all?”
“Oh, yes; we have a regular engraved invitation to the wedding itself, and Mrs. Barlow has written a note inviting me to the wedding breakfast. There are going to be a lot of young people, and it will be great fun—if I can go,” she said, a little under her breath.
“Humph!” said cousin Joan, “I did n’t suppose they’d take as much trouble as that for you. A note from Mrs. Barlow did you say?”
“Yes,” answered Amy; “I ’ll show it to you if you wish,” and she handed the little square envelope to cousin Joan.
Although her expression did not brighten up perceptibly, the old lady showed that she was rather pleased by the attention that had been offered Amy.
“What ’ll you wear?” she asked, with more interest than she usually showed in Amy’s affairs.
“That’s just it, cousin Joan. If a pretty dress can’t be managed without too much trouble and expense, why, perhaps I ’ll have to give it up, although of course I don’t want to do that.”
“Yes, to be sure,” said cousin Joan, so absent-mindedly that Amy desisted from further conversation. She moved around the room as noiselessly as usual, doing various little things for the invalid’s comfort; and after a time
