foolish Frances is; I don’t suppose that she would say a word to her unless they had been formally introduced.”
“Well, let us both go out and see what the trouble is. Perhaps she has n’t had any wedding cake or anything.”
But Amy, when questioned, refused to say that she felt lonely or neglected.
“But I know that I ’ve been dreadfully thoughtless,” and Brenda, feeling that she had been remiss in her hospitality, was thoroughly repentant.
“Oh, no,” responded Amy. “Of course I did not expect to know many persons here, and a wedding is really a family party. So I thought it better to come out on the lawn. I was in a group with two or three girls. But they did n’t seem much inclined to talk to me. I thought I’d come here and wait for Fritz.”
“No, indeed!” and Brenda spoke in a tone that a stronger willed person than Amy could not have resisted. “You must come back to the house with me. There are ever so many people for you to meet. I am anxious to have them know you.”
So Brenda and Nora crossed the lawn arm in arm with Amy, and they walked past the corner where Frances Pounder and two or three girls and youths were laughing and enjoying themselves mightily. Belle was not there, because at the last moment her grandmother had decided that it was not worth while for her to go to the wedding. But Frances had found other kindred spirits among the wedding guests, and although she had seen that Amy was comparatively a stranger, she had not had enough polite-
