y it, but if this Innocent Delight
is a sample of what your Milton girls can do in a play, you would much
better change your plans and put on _Puss in Boots_, instead of a piece
like _The Carnation Countess_. The former would compass the calibre of
your talent, I should say."

"What did I tell you?" hissed Eva in Agnes' ear. "Trix Severn will spoil
the whole show!"

CHAPTER XV

THE HALLOWE'EN PARTY

It had become an established custom now for Tess and Dot to call on Mrs.
Eland each Monday afternoon.

"She is such a nice lady. I wish you could meet my Mrs. Eland," Tess
said to Mrs. Adams, who lived not far from the old Corner House, on
Willow Street, and who was one of the first friends the Kenway sisters
had made in Milton.

Tess had been sent to Mrs. Adams on an errand for Mrs. MacCall, and now
lingered at the invitation of the lady who loved to have any of the
Corner House girls come in. "I wish you could meet my Mrs. Eland,"
repeated Tess. "I believe it would do her good to have more callers.
They'd liven her up--and she's so sad nowadays. I know _you'd_ liven her
up, Mrs. Adams."

"Well, child, I hope I wouldn't make her unhappy, I'm sure. I believe in
folks being lively if they can. I haven't a particle of use for
_grumps_--no, indeed! 'Laugh and grow fat' is a pretty good motto."

"But you're not fat," suggested Tess; "and you are 'most always
laughing."

"That's a fact; but it's not worrying that keeps me lean. 'Care killed
the cat' my mother used to say; but care never killed her, I'm certain!
Some folks is born for leanness, and I'm one of 'em."

"Well, it's real becoming to you," said Tess, kindly, eyeing the rather
bony woman with reflective gaze. "And you're not as thin as Briggs, the
baker. Mrs. MacCall says he doesn't cast a shadow."

"My soul! No!" exclaimed Mrs. Adams. "And his loaves of bread have got
so't they don't cast much of a shadow. I've been complaining to him
about his bread. The rise in the price of flour can't excuse altogether
the stinginess of his loaves.

"He came here the other day about dark, and I had my porch door locked.
I heard him knock and I asks, 'Who's there?'

"'It's the baker, ma'am,' says he. 'Here's your bread.'

"'Well, bring it in,' says I, forgetting the door was locked.

"'I don't see how I can, ma'am,' he says, ''nless I put it through the
keyhole, ma'am,' and he begun to giggle. But I put the come-up-ance on
him," declared Mrs. Adams, with sa