nt to know about the dinner at the
Brindlecombes'. Well, thanks to Mrs. Lounsbury's help and judgment, I
had two dresses to pick from, two that seemed right for such a grand
affair as I was afraid this was going to be. And I picked out a black
silk, trimmed--

(Two pages of Mrs. Bangs' letter are omitted here)

There is more of it at the top and bottom than there was to a whole lot
of evening gowns I have seen, on the steamer and in Washington, but I
can't help that. I guess I am old-fashioned and countrified, but it
does seem to me that the place to wear a bathing suit is in the water,
especially for a person of my age. However, it is a real sensible and
rich-looking dress, even if it is simple, and I think you would like it.
At any rate, I put it on and Galusha got into his dress suit, after I
had helped him find the vest, and stopped him from putting one gold stud
and two pearl ones in his shirt. HE didn't notice, bless him, he was
thinking of everything but what he was doing at the minute, as he always
is.

So, both in our best bibs and tuckers, and all taut and ready for the
sea, as father would have said, we were driven over to the Brindlecombe
house, or palace, whichever you call it. Mr. Brindlecombe--or Sir Ernest
I suppose he should be called, although _I_ never remembered to do
it, but called him Mr. Brindlecombe the whole evening--was a fleshy,
bald-headed man, who looked the veriest little bit like Mr. Dearborn,
the Congregational minister at Denboro, and was as pleasant and jolly as
could be. His wife was a white-haired little lady, dressed plainly--the
expensive kind of plainness, you know--and with a diamond pin that
was about as wonderful as anything I ever saw. And I kept thinking
to myself: "Oh, what SHALL I say to you? What on EARTH shall we talk
about?" and not getting any answer from myself, either.

But I needn't have worried. She was just as sweet and gentle and
every-day as any one could be, and pretty soon it came out that we both
loved flowers. That was enough, of course, and so while Mr. Sir Ernest
and Galusha were mooning along together about "dynasties" and "papyri"
and "sphinxes" and "Ptolemies" and "hieroglyphics" and mummies and mercy
knows what, his wife and I were having a lovely time growing roses and
dahlias and lilies. She told me a new way to keep geranium roots alive
for months after taking them up. She learned it from her gardener and if
ever I get a chance I am going to try i