hy doesn't she get through?" asked the girl. "When is she ever
going to leave that table?"

"When she gits ready," answered the man; "that's the time Miss Panney
does everything."

Sipping her tea and nibbling her sandwich, Miss Panney considered the
situation. It would be, of course, a difficult thing to get that young
man to visit his sister at Barport. It would cost money, and there would
seem to be no good reason for his going. Of course no such influence
could be brought to bear upon him at this end of the line. Whatever
inducement was offered, must be offered from Barport. And there was no
one there who could do it, at least with the proper effect. The girls
would be glad to have him there, but nothing that either of them could,
with propriety, be prompted to say, would draw him into such extravagant
self-gratification. But if she were at Barport, she knew that she could
send him such an invitation, or sound such a call to him, that he would
be sure to come.

Accordingly Miss Panney determined to go to Barport without loss of time;
and although she did hot know what sort of summons she should issue to
Ralph after she got there, she did not in the least doubt that
circumstances would indicate the right thing to do. In fact, she would
arrange circumstances in such a way that they should so indicate.

Having arrived at this conclusion, Miss Panney finished eating her
sandwich with an earnestness and rapidity which convinced the astonished
girl at the counter that she had all the teeth she needed to bite with;
and then she went forth to convince other people of the same thing. On
the sidewalk she met Phoebe.

"How d'ye do, Miss Panney?" said that single-minded colored woman. "I
hain't seen you for a long time."

Miss Panney returned the salutation, and stood for a moment in thought.

"Phoebe," said she, "when did you last see Mike?"

"Well, now, really, Miss Panney, I can't say, but it's been a mighty long
time. He don't come into town to see me, and I's too busy to go way out
thar. I does the minister's wash now, besides boardin' him an' keepin'
his clothes mended. An' then it's four or five miles out to that farm. I
can't 'ford to hire no carriage, an' Mike ain't no right to expect me to
walk that fur."

"Phoebe," said Miss Panney, "you are a lazy woman and an undutiful wife.
It is not four miles to Cobhurst, and you walk two or three times that
distance every day, gadding about town. You ought to go out t