h
laughed and handed it to her aunt, anticipating some fun when Miss
Gordon gave her opinion of it. But to Elizabeth's intense surprise the
lady made no comment upon the writer's manners and heartily approved of
her niece accepting the invitation. Elizabeth had fully expected
Estella to be pronounced entirely ungenteel, and no sort of person to
associate with a Gordon. But Elizabeth did not yet understand her
aunt, any more than her aunt understood her.

So very joyfully an acceptance of both invitations was written, and
Miss Gordon helped Elizabeth prepare for her visit to Annie's with hope
once more rising in her heart. Surely, surely, upon this occasion,
this one unsuccessful member of her family would grasp opportunity
before he passed her for the last time.

They were debating as to how Elizabeth was to reach town, for both the
gray horse and the old phaeton were now tottering on the verge of
dissolution, when Auntie Jinit McKerracher came across the brown shaven
fields, to make a call and an offer. Auntie Jinit had heard of
Elizabeth's proposed visit to Cheemaun, for the lady knew minutely the
downsitting and the uprising of everyone in the valley. She, too, was
bent on a journey thither, on the morrow,--on important business, she
said mysteriously,--and she invited Elizabeth to accompany her.

The offer was gladly accepted, though Miss Gordon would have preferred
that her niece make a more dignified entry into the town than could be
accomplished in Wully Johnstone's old buck-board with the bunch of hay
sticking out behind, and Auntie Jinit leaning far forward slapping the
old gray mare with the lines. But little cared Elizabeth. She was
going on a tour into the unknown--she was to enter Cheemaun society,
and it mattered little to her how she got there, she was sure to have a
good time.

The day they set out was a glorious October morning, warm and bright,
with a hint of that soft blue-gray mist on the horizon which in the
afternoon would clothe the landscape in an amethyst haze. Auntie
Jinit's old gray horse ambled along easily, and Elizabeth gave herself
up to hilarity. To go abroad with Mrs. McKerracher was to have one's
entertainment insured. She was a highly diverting lady, with a
youthful twinkle in her eye contradicting the shining gray hair that,
parted demurely in the middle, waved down over her ears. There was
youth, too, in her round plump face and the soft flush of her cheeks.
Plainly