"A letter for Joyce!" they called in chorus the next instant, all straggling back after the oldest brother as he bore it triumphantly into the kitchen.
"From Lloydsboro Valley," announced Joyce, and Mrs.Ware's face lighted up with one of her rare smiles.
"Ah, I knew it was coming," she said, "and I am sure it will prove an antidote for your blues.

I had a letter from the same place last week, and I've been in the secret ever since." "What secret ?" demanded Mary, her eyes round with curiosity, and Jack echoed the question.
"That Joyce was to be invited to a house party in June, back in 'My old Kentucky home.' The invitation is from one of my old school friends.
There were three of us," she went on, in answer to the look of eager interest in Mary's eyes.

"Three girls who grew up together: Joyce Allen (your sister is named for her), Elizabeth Lloyd, and myself.

And now our little daughters are to meet in the same dear old valley where we played together and grew up together and learned to love each other like sisters.

I hope they will become as dear friends as we were." Joyce looked up from her letter, her face aglow with joyful surprise.
"Oh, mother!" she cried, "do you really mean it?
Is it possible that I am to go?
How can you afford it ?" Mrs.Ware motioned toward the envelope lying at Joyce's feet.
"Look again," she said, "and you will find that Mr.Sherman has sent a pass.