s."

Miss Panney glared at the woman. "I tell you what I believe, and that
is that you never went to Cobhurst at all. You must tell me something,
and you are making up the biggest story you can," and with this she
marched away.

"I reckon the next time she sends me on an arrand," thought Phoebe,
whose face would have been very red if her natural color had not
interfered with the exhibition of such a hue, "she'll send me in a hack,
and pay me somethin' for my time. I was bound to tell her 'zactly what
she didn't want to hear, an' I reckon I done it, an' more'n that if she
gets her back up 'bout this, an' goes out to Cobhurst, that old cook'll
find herself in hot water. It was mighty plain that she was dreadful
skeered for fear anybody would think thar was somethin' goin' on 'twixt
them two."

If Phoebe had been more moderate in her doubleheaded treachery, Miss
Panney might have been much disturbed by her news, but the story she had
heard was so preposterous that she really believed that the lazy colored
woman had not gone to Cobhurst, and by the time she reached the Bannister
house her mind was cleared for the reception of fresh impressions.

She was fortunate enough to find Dora alone, and as soon as it was
prudent she asked her what news she had heard from Cobhurst. Dora was
looking her loveliest in an early autumn costume, and answered that she
had heard nothing at all, which surprised Miss Panney very much, for she
had expected that Miriam would have been to see Dora before this time.

"Common politeness would dictate that," said Miss Panney, "but I expect
that that child is so elated and excited by getting back to the head of
her household that everything else has slipped out of her mind. But if
you two are such close friends, I don't think you ought to mind that sort
of thing. If I were you, I would go out and see her. Eccentric people
must be humored."

"They needn't expect that from me," said Dora, a little sharply. "If
Miriam lived there by herself, I might go; but as it is, I shall not. It
is their duty to come here, and I shall not go there until they do."

Miss Panney drummed upon the table, but otherwise did not show her
impatience.

"We can never live the life we ought in this world, my dear," she said,
"if we allow our sensitive fancies to interfere with the advancement of
our interests."

"Miss Panney," cried Dora, sitting upright in her chair, "do you mean
that I ought to go out there, and try